


Dance With Me

by Hugh_Jidiot



Category: Amphibia (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Girls Kissing, Horribly Awkward Marcy, LGBTQ Female Character, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hugh_Jidiot/pseuds/Hugh_Jidiot
Summary: In recognition for her services to Newtopia, Marcy has received an invitation to the city's annual Midsummer Ball, one of the biggest and fanciest events of the year. The only problem is that Marcy is horrible in social situations and dances with the grace and elegance of a concussed giraffe. But Anne won't let this opportunity pass by, and resolves to turn Marcy into the belle of the ball!And unbeknownst to everyone, a mysterious group is watching and plotting from the shadows...
Relationships: Anne Boonchuy & Marcy Wu, Anne Boonchuy/Marcy Wu
Comments: 142
Kudos: 607





	1. Formal Invitations

It was a sunny afternoon in Amphibia, and the courtyard of the Newtopian Knight Guard Central Garrison was abuzz with activity. The sound of grunting echoed in the air as soldiers sparred with wooden weapons and trainers ran new recruits through vigorous exercises.

The Plantar family took in all of this as a squire led them along the south wall, out of everyone’s way. It had been a few days now since they had arrived in Newtopia, and Marcy had insisted on showing them the place where she had trained to become, as Anne had put it, an “Amazon warrior queen.” Marcy herself wasn’t with them; after spending the previous days catching up with her best friend, showing the Plantars the city and aiding King Andrias in his research into the mysterious music box, she had insisted on taking time to train and keep her skills sharp.

“Dang, these newts are hardcore,” Sprig said, looking out at all of warriors. He watched as two sparring newts went at each other, training swords flying as the wooden blades collided again and again.

“Well this _is_ the capital of Amphibia,” Hop Pop remarked. “Only makes sense that they’d have some of the best soldiers around.”

“They’re so cool…” Polly said, eyes wide with wonder as she watched a burly newt ran a straw dummy through with a spear, lifted it high and slammed it into the ground.

“No kidding,” Anne said. Even with a few days to sink in, it still sort of blew her mind to think that Marcy, the same girl who used to trip over her own feet back home, had become this incredible warrior. Learning about the improvements she’d made to the city was one thing - she _was_ practically a genius, after all - but all of this…

It was a lot to take in.

“Ooh! There’s Marcy now!” Sprig said with a point, bringing Anne back to reality.

The squire led them to a small dirt circle, bidding them adieu before scampering off. In the center of the circle, Marcy Wu held a wooden knife in one hand as she faced down a green-skinned newt in leather armor. 

Without warning Marcy shot forward, knife swinging. The fake blade flashed through the air with lightning speed, forcing the newt to step back as he deftly dodged he swipe.

Then when Marcy stabbed instead of slashed, the newt’s hands came up, grabbing her wrist. He yanked her forward, causing her to stumble. She tried to recover, but it was too late: in one swift motion the newt turned, crouched, and threw Marcy over his shoulder with a grunt, slamming her down back-first onto the dirt with an “Oomph!”

“Ah… nice one!” Marcy said as she sat up. She brushed some pebbles from her shoulders and gave the newt a proud smile. “Your technique has really improved since the last time we sparred, Jenkins.”

“Thanks Chief,” Jenkins returned the smile as he helped Marcy to her feet. “Nice to know my hard work is paying off.”

Marcy nodded, then held the training blade out to him. “Okay, now it’s _your_ turn to be the starving orphan with the knife.”

Jenkins took the knife, but frowned as he did so. “Don’t you think the name of this exercise is a _little_ inappropriate?”

“Don’t you think you should be trying to stab me for food, you orphan?”

“ _Mar-Mar!_ ”

Marcy looked up at the sound of her nickname, and beamed. “Anna-banana! Jenkins, we’ll pick this up later.”

Jenkins nodded, jogging off towards the garrison’s archery range while Marcy ran over to the Plantars. Anne smiled and opened her arms for a hug, which Marcy was happy to accept.

“Glad you guys could make it,” Marcy said when she pulled away. She waved one arm towards the bustling courtyard. “So, what do you think of the Newtopia Knight’s Garrison? Pretty sweet, huh?”

“It’s more than sweet, it’s _amazing!_ ” Polly said, bouncing in place. “Look at all the weapons and armor and omigosh I love it!” She leaned forward with an eager smile. “Quick question: what’s your minimum age requirement to enroll here?”

Hop Pop sighed, rubbing his temples. “Polly sweetie, we’ve been over this. You gotta wait for your legs to come in, _then_ you can start learnin’ how to kill folks.”

Polly frowned and crossed her arms. “Yeah yeah. Stupid biological limitations…”

“I still can’t believe you’re this great warrior now,” Anne said. “Feels like just yesterday I had to keep you from running face-first into a locker door.”

Marcy gave a proud smile as she leaned against the garrison walls with her arms crossed. “What can I say? I told you I leveled up while I was here.” She casually put one foot against the wall, only for the other to slide out from under her and send her falling to the ground. She quickly popped up with an embarrassed giggle. “Uh, I meant to do that.”

Anne just chuckled. _Still the same old Marcy._

Marcy smoothed out her skirt, then looked up with bright eyes. “Oh! Since you guys are here, I’ve _gotta_ introduce you to my crew. Follow me!”

With that Marcy turned and began marching south, the Plantars following close behind.

“So is everyone here a Ranger like you?” Sprig asked. Marcy shook her head.

“Oh no, just a few of them. You see, the Newtopian Knights are divided into four main groups.” Marcy began counting off on her fingers. “First there’s the Kingsmen, who guard the Royal Palace and personally answer to King Andrias himself. Then you’ve got the Vanguard, who patrol the city walls. There’s Enforcement, who police the streets of Newtopia.” Marcy smirked as she looked over her shoulder. “Finally you’ve got me and the Rangers, who handle any external threats to the city, like those barbari-ants we dealt with. And speaking of Rangers, here’s the entrance to our section of the garrison.”

She opened up a door in the wall marked with a stylized bow and arrow. It opened up into a spacious chamber well-lit by glow bulb mushrooms placed in sconces on the walls. Several newts of different colors garbed in gray cloaks were seated at the various tables and standing by wall-mounted weapon racks.

“What’s up, nerds!” Marcy called out as Anne and the others filed in behind her.

The newts all looked up and smiled. “ _Marcy!_ ” they chorused.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Anne and the Plantars. They’re the ones I’ve been telling you about.” She then turned to Anne and the rest, motioning to the assembled newts. “Guys, these are my most trusted lieutenants, some of the best Rangers Newtopia has to offer.” 

She pointed to each newt as she began listing names. “Meet Gary, Jerry, Larry, Harry, Mary, Terry and Finklestien.”

“ ‘Sup,” Anne said, unsure of what else to really say.

“So which of these poor saps is the one who almost got turned into ant food?” Terry asked with a chortle.

Sprig laughed awkwardly and raised a hand. “That’d be me, this poor sap over here.”

“How’d you save him again, Chief?” Asked Mary.

Marcy smirked, idly checking her fingernails. “Oh, you know. Just went in after him and gave the queen’s insides a little tickle. Nothing special.”

Finklestien gave a whistle and nod of approval. “Dang, wish I could’ve seen that for myself.”

“Hey Chief, did you tell ‘em about that time you fought off a pair of lovebirds armed with only a spear and a shoelace?” Gary asked.

“Or that time you took out a whole gang of toad marauders with a single crossbow bolt?” Terry added.

“Guys guys, come on,” Marcy said with a blush. “Yeah it was _one_ bolt, but I shot it to trigger a rolling log trap. No big deal.”

Before long, all of the newts were chiming in with tales of Marcy’s exploits. The Plantars hung onto every word, awestruck. Anne herself hung back, glancing between the ground and her best friend. She struggled to juxtapose the memory of the clumsy, dorky Marcy she had known back home with the confident warrior Marcy who now stood before her. And Anne _was_ happy for her, but at the same time she started to feel… discarded.

_Does Marcy even need me anymore?_

A knock at the door brought the conversation to a halt and snapped Anne out of her contemplation. A young newt entered, clad in the tunic of a squire.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” he said, holding up an envelope, “but a courier just dropped this off for Master Marcy.”

Marcy accepted the letter, examining the blue wax that sealed the envelope shut. The design displayed a tree bordered by a circle of flowering vines.

"Whoa, that's the seal of the Sycamores," Gary said. At the Plantars' confused looks, he added; "They're one of the most powerful noble families in the city."

"What could they want with the Chief?" Larry wondered aloud.

Marcy shrugged as she tore open the envelope. "Probably have a job they wanna hire me for."

"Another one already? You just took care of that barbari-ant incursion less than a week ago."

"Yeah well, this is what happens when you're Chief Ranger," Marcy said, smiling as she pulled out the letter and unfolded it. "Don't worry about it; whatever the Sycamores have for me, I guarantee I can handle-"

Marcy froze.

"Oh no."

Her confident smile fell as her eyes travelled down the page. "Oh, no no no no _no."_

"What?" Anne asked.

Marcy ignored her, her face going pale. "Oh this is not good, this is _so_ not good."

"Marcy, what's wrong?" Anne asked, concerned. When Marcy still didn't reply, Anne took the letter from her trembling hands and began to read aloud the flowery script.

“ _Dear Lady Marcy. In recognition of your services to the city of Newtopia, Lord Augustus Sycamore cordially invites you to the annual Midsummer Ball. You will find your invitation enclosed, good for you and a guest of your choosing. We sincerely hope you will grace us with your presence. Yours truly, the House of Sycamore._ ”

“Whoa, the Midsummer Ball?!” Harry asked, astonished.

“Uh, is that good?” Polly asked.

“The Midsummer Ball is one of the biggest events of the year,” Mary said. “The best food, the best drink, the best music, and only the most elite of the elite get invited.”

“For real?!” Anne looked up from the letter with a huge grin. “Marcy, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah, amazingly _awful_ ,” Marcy replied. She bit her bottom lip, gripping the edges of her cloak tight. “Anne, you know how bad I am with social situations, _especially_ dances. I can’t make small talk, I start rambling about nothing when I’m nervous, I have trouble even making eye contact with people, and oh yeah I dance like a giraffe with a concussion!”

“ _Psst._ What’s a giraffe?” Sprig whispered to Hop Pop, who shrugged in response.

“No, I’m gonna have to pass on this. Still, it’d be rude to refuse an invite to the Midsummer Ball without a good reason…” Marcy rubbed her chin, then snapped her fingers. “I know! I’ll tell them I broke my leg in a training accident!”

“But… your leg isn’t broken,” Jerry pointed out.

“Not yet it isn’t!” Marcy smiled as she walked over to one of the weapon racks and plucked a warhammer from its mounting. Everyone present cried out in shock as Marcy braced her leg against the wall and hefted the hammer overhead, only for Anne to run up and try to yank it away from her. “Anne, let go!”

“No way! Friends don’t let friends break their own legs,” Anne said. With a grunt she wrested the weapon from Marcy’s grip. “Got it - _oh jeez this is heavy!_ ”

She stumbled back and let the hammer fall, where it landed with a heavy _thunk_. Shaking her head, Anne grabbed Marcy’s shoulders. “Look, you don’t have to maim yourself to get out of going to this dance.”

“Well how else am I supposed to get out of going?”

“You won’t. Because _I’m_ going to train you.” Anne beamed with pride. “Come on, socializing? Dancing? That’s like my whole thing!”

“Yeah,” Polly piped in, “Anne taught Hop Pop how to dance for a party back in Wartwood.”

“And you can’t possibly be as bad as _he_ was when they started,” Sprig added.

“Yeah!” Hop Pop gave a thumbs-up and a supportive smile. A second passed, and he narrowed his eyes at his his grandson. “Hey!”

“I think you should go for it, Chief,” Finklestien said, with the rest of the newts voicing their support. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

Marcy looked around at everyone, then back to Anne. Confident, friendly, charismatic Anne, who could connect with people in ways Marcy never could. She looked Marcy right in the eyes, giving her a reassuring smile. Seeing that confident gaze, Marcy felt a sunbeam of hope on the frigid frost of doubt that enveloped her heart.

After all, if anyone could make Marcy into _not_ a complete mess, it was Anne Boonchuy.

Marcy took a deep breath, smiled, and looked Anne in the eyes with a firm nod. “All right. Let’s _do_ this.”

* * *

“ _Dearest Colleagues,_

_It seems an unexpected opportunity has presented itself. The human girl will be attending the Midsummer Ball in one week’s time. I understand some of you may have concerns, but I believe this is the moment we’ve been waiting for. Let us meet tomorrow at Rendezvous Point Charlie to debate and discuss a plan of action._

_Sincerely,_

_X"_


	2. Morning Meetings

It was morning at the Royal Castle, home of King Andrias and the central seat of government for all of Amphibia. As the sun crested the eastern horizon and Newtopia awoke to a new day, the castle was already abuzz with activity. In the grand dining hall, members of the Newtopian Parliament ate breakfast while conversing with their assistants and each other about the day’s scheduled meetings. Servants hurried to and fro between the dining hall and kitchen, exchanging empty trays for ones piled with food and keeping the sweet nectar of life (also known as coffee) flowing.

Seated at the head of the long oak table that dominated the room was King Andrias Leviathan himself. Lord of Amphibia, Peacekeeper of a Thousand Years and the First of his Name. He stared down at the space in front of him with gritted teeth, narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. A snarl of frustration bubbled up from his throat.

“Lost again!” He said, his baritone voice echoing through the hall. Andrias leaned down, staring into the flickering screen of Marcy’s Bintendo Swap that lay on the table. “You are a formidable opponent indeed, Gym Leader Raihan, but one of these days I _will_ be victorious.”

From her spot at the table next to him, Royal Advisor Lady Olivia sighed as stirred sugar into her steaming mug of coffee. “Dear King Andrias,” she said, voice weary, “would you kindly put that infernal contraption away for just a few minutes? We still need to discuss your itinerary for today.”

The King rolled his eyes. “Gee let me guess: several hours of sitting around, listening to the MP’s squabble like children and stall any forward progress by endlessly bickering over the minute details of every bill that passes their desks, all for the sake of spiting their political opponents with little-to-no-regard over the welfare of the citizens they supposedly represent? Seriously, it feels like some of the bills that Parliament has been sitting on are older than _me._ ”

“Oh come now Your Majesty, that’s a rather _dim_ view of an essential political process.” Olivia paused to sip her coffee. “And it's not all endless debate. In fact, I’ve heard talk that Parliament will overwhelmingly vote in favor of lowering the lettuce tax by .05%.”

“... Riveting.” Andrias glanced down at the gaming console again, and covered it with his hand. “Still, I suppose I _have_ been playing too long, and these repeated losses are making me lose focus. I should take a step back, gather my thoughts and rethink my strategy… And ask Marcy for some tips.”

He glanced over at the empty ornate wooden chair on his left, and raised an eyebrow. “Speaking of which, where _is_ the young miss?”

It was at that moment the dining room doors swung open. Marcy walked in, hair disheveled and bags under her eyes, which were glued to the open journal in her hands. She didn’t look up as she walked, paying no mind to the various servants scrambling to go around her.

“Ah, good morning to you Lady Marcy,” Lady Olivia said as Marcy took the seat opposite to her own. She took in the Chief Ranger’s hagard appearance and raised an eyebrow. “Long night, I take it?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Marcy replied, grabbing an empty mug and full coffee pot from the breakfast spread on the table. Her eyes never left the book in front of her as she held both out to the side. “Figured I’d pass the time with some research.”

She started to pour coffee as she continued to read, not noticing that she was missing the cup completely and dumping coffee all over the floor. Andrias reached down to gently nudge her hand with one massive finger, shifting the downpour of bean-water to its proper ceramic destination.

“So, what’s today's subject?” Andrias asked, leaning forward with interest. “Heron physiology? Eighteenth century Newtopian poetry? Alchemical concoction that will show you visions from beyond time and space?” 

Marcy drummed her fingers against the table as she took several big gulps of coffee, glancing between Olivia and Andrias. “Actually my research this time around is a bit more present-day,” she said after setting her mug down. “In fact, maybe you guys can help me. Any big news going on with the Newtopian upper class?”

The king and his advisor exchanged confused glances. At this point they were used to Marcy asking questions about everything and anything: newt biology, Amphibian culture, esoteric trivia regarding centuries-old stage plays, and everything in-between. But common gossip? That was a new one.

“Well,” Olivia finally said, “Lord Llewelyn Bitterroot just announced his engagement with Lady Beatrice Honeydew.”

Marcy smiled. “Oh, that sounds romantic.”

Olivia made a face. “Eh, not exactly. Llewelyn and Beatrice… aren’t exactly fond of one another.”

“They hate each other’s guts,” Andrias said plainly. “This is purely a political marriage to combine the families’ businesses. Word is that Llewwlyn already has two lovers lined up, and Beatrice has three.”

“... Oh.” Marcy nervously glanced at her journal. “So, if by chance I were to meet them, would I congratulate them? Avoid the topic entirely?”

“Well you could certainly congratulate them, but I wouldn’t dwell on the subject too long,” Andrias said. “But more to the point: why the sudden interest in what the nobility are getting up to?”

Marcy rubbed the back of her head. “I kind of, sort of… received an invitation to the Midsummer Ball.”

Andrias’ eyes lit up. “Ooh! Well isn’t that exciting!”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic,” Olivia observed. Marcy sighed deeply.

“That’s one way of putting it. I’m gonna level with you guys; I’m horrible in social situations.”

“You don’t have any problems talking to us,” the king said.

“Yeah, because I’ve known both of you for months now. Not only will this be a room full of complete strangers, but they’re also some of the wealthiest and most powerful newts in all of Amphibia!” Marcy slouched and looked away, running a hand through her hair. “And me… I’m just some clumsy, awkward human weirdo.”

Lady Olivia shook her head with a chuckle. “Well, there’s your problem: you’re focusing far too much on the negative.” She refilled her coffee, stirring in some sugar and cream. “Here’s a bit of advice: when it comes to dealing with nobility, confidence is _everything._ None of the barons and magnates got to where they are by being insecure.” She waved her spoon at Marcy, her firm. “You must be self-assured in attitude and appearance. Sit up straight, maintain eye contact, keep your voice even, and remember to smile.”

Marcy rolled her eyes. “Well gee, is it that easy? Here, let me just reach into my brain and flip the magic switch that’ll turn me into a social butterfly.”

“Sarcasm is unbecoming of you, Miss Wu.”

“Seriously though, all of that is easier said than done. Just how am I supposed to be confident around newts who have more money than I’d make in several lifetimes?”

“Well you may not have money, but you have plenty else to be proud of,” Andrias said with a smile. “You’re a visitor from another world who, within just a few months of your arrival, has made numerous improvements to Newtopia’s infrastructure and risen to the rank of Chief Ranger with a flawless track record for missions. Don’t you think _that_ all counts for something?”

Marcy looked up, still uncertain. “I mean… maybe? You really think these posh nobles would be interested in hearing about how I upgraded the sewer system? Or how I fight bandits and beasts out in the wild?”

“Well, I wouldn’t get into all of the gritty details, so to speak,” Olivia said. “But the fact that you’re a great warrior and civil engineer certainly counts for something.”

“And not to brag or anything, but you’re also close to the King himself,” Andrias added with a chuckle.

Marcy leaned back, processing everything they had gone over. Thinking about it, maybe she _did_ have good credentials. There had to be a reason she had been invited in the first place, after all. The only thing she had to do was be confident about it.

Confident around complete strangers watching her intently and judging her every word and movement. Yeah. No biggie.

Before the conversation could continue, a servant approached. “Excuse me,” he said, “but Lady Anne has just arrived at the front gates. She’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Oh, Anne promised to help me practice with being more sociable,” Marcy said to Olivia and Andrias. She winced. “And also to teach me how to dance. I forgot to mention, I can’t dance to save my life.”

“Hmm, yes,” Olivia said, nodding. “Dancing _is_ a rather important part of any ball.”

“In that case, you’d better get more than coffee in you,” Andrias said, sliding a plate of muffins over to Marcy. “You’ll need the energy.”

“Right.” Marcy grabbed one of the muffins, and smiled at the two newts. “Thanks for the pep-talk, guys.”

“Any time, Marcy,” Andrias said with a fatherly smile. “Oh! Before you go, I could use a little advice of my own.”

He held up Marcy’s Swap between his thumb and forefinger. “Refresh my memory: what are the dragon-types weak against?”

* * *

Anne and Marcy’s footsteps echoed as they walked into the Verdant Chamber, a massive ballroom situated in the Royal Castle’s west wing. The polished white marble floors reflected the two girls as they took in their surroundings: emerald green walls carved with twisting vine patterns, a massive golden chandelier adorned with precious crystals hanging overhead, and colorful stained-glass windows depicting an assortment of major events throughout Amphibia’s long history.

“Man, this place looks amazing,” Anne said. She nodded and smiled as her voice echoed off the walls. “And the acoustics are fantastic!”

“Yeah, it’s really something, isn’t it?” Marcy asked, coming to a stop next to Anne. She rubbed her arm as her eyes darted around, not staying in one spot for more than a few seconds. “Say, did you know this is the exact spot where King Sligoi the Bold and his retainers fought off a band of assassins that struck during his 448th birthday party? Yeah it was wild, I was just reading about it in _A Grand HIstory of Newtopia Vol. XII_ , why don’t we head up to the royal library and I can show you-”

“You’re not getting out of this, Marcy,” Anne interrupted. Her tone was polite, but firm. “We came here so I could start teaching you how to dance, and that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.”

She fished her phone out of her pocket and began to cycle through her downloaded songs. “Hmm, let’s see… Ah, here we go!”

She tapped her screen. A pulsing techno beat came from the speakers, echoing through the spacious chamber, a high-pitched male voice soon joining in.

_“Well you can tell by the way I use my walk_

_I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk…_ ”

“Okay, before we do anything else, I need to know what I’m working with,” Anne said. She took a few steps back, giving Marcy plenty of room. “Show me what you’ve got, girl!”

Marcy looked at Anne, uncertain. She tugged on the hem of her cloak. “Just… dance, then?”

“Yeah, Marbles! Move your body, shake your groove thing, feel the rhythm in your soul! You know, all that good stuff.”

Marcy _did_ know, but only in the sense that she had seen other people dance, Anne and Sasha in particular. They always made it look so easy, moving with such poise and precision. At a loss for what else to do, Marcy did the only thing she could think of and attempted to copy what she had seen others do.

Anne carefully kept her face impassive as she watched with crossed arms. Marcy’s dancing was… interesting, to say the least. Her movements were both too stiff and too fluid at the same time, she was so far off-beat that she was practically in another time zone, and she had the expression of someone who’d rather be doing _anything_ else but this. Overall, she most resembled a chimpanzee having an epileptic seizure while being stung by a swarm of angry wasps during a magnitude-ten earthquake. 

All stuff Anne had seen before on the rare occasions when she and Sasha had gotten Marcy to dance with them. Except this time the context was much different, what with Marcy having been invited to a formal ball that they had less than a week to prepare for. And what Anne was seeing now didn’t exactly fill her with confidence.

Still, Anne had to give Marcy credit; at least she hadn’t-

“ _Whoa!"_

As Marcy attempted a twirl, she tripped over literally nothing and found herself falling, arms flailing as the ground rushed up to meet her.

Thankfully for Marcy, Anne’s reflexes had been honed from years of keeping Marcy maiming herself back home. She shot forward and dropped to her knees, sliding across the smooth marble just in time to catch Marcy before her face became intimately familiar with the floor. With practiced ease she flipped Marcy face-up, who looked at her sheepishly.

“Um, I meant to do that?”

Anne sighed inwardly.

_This is gonna be harder than I thought._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So between this and PartlyCloudySkies' "There Will Be No Dancing," that's two stories now portraying Marcy as having an aversion to social situations and dancing. Boy am I gonna be embarrassed if the show reveals that she's actually a party animal with a case of boogie fever. Or if Amphibia is an absolute monarchy rather than a constitutional monarchy that I just wrote it as.
> 
> Eh, at least I correctly called Marcy's love of coffee.


	3. Dress for Success

“ _Ow!_ ”

“I told you, you need to hold still!”

Marcy winced as Anne pressed the antiseptic-soaked cotton ball to the scrape on her forearm, the medicine stinging against her wound. She forced a smile and said through gritted teeth: “Just like old times, huh?”

Anne couldn’t help but chuckle as she tossed the cotton ball in a nearby wastebasket and reached for the first-aid kit. “Yeah. Guess some things never change.”

It had been three days since Marcy had received her invitation to the Midsummer Ball. In between her ranger training and research with the king into the music box and Anne exploring the city with the Plantars, the two had been hard at work training Marcy in the art of dance. 

Progress had been, to put it bluntly, non-existent. At Anne’s behest, Marcy had tried her hand at a number of dance styles: contemporary, ballet, jazz, tap, hip-hop, and even breakdancing. Results had been the same every time: Marcy would flail about like a tweaked-out rhinoceros, almost faceplant onto the floor/tumble down a flight of stairs/crash through a window, and Anne would have to swoop in to save her. The latest spill happened when Marcy had stumbled while attempting a pirouette. Anne had been just a millisecond too slow, and Marcy’s slide across the floor had left her with a skinned forearm. Thankfully, Anne had years of practice at this point with patching up Marcy’s various injuries.

“And done,” Anne said as she finished applying the bandage to Marcy’s arm. She smirked and gave Marcy a pat on the head. “Would you like a lollipop for being such a good patient?”

Marcy laughed and playfully swatted Anne’s hand away. “Hardy har, very funny.”

The girls stood up from the floor of the Verdant Chamber. Light from the midday sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, leaving the white marble floor awash with vibrant colors.

"Look Anne, I've been thinking," Marcy said, her mood shifting to serious. "Maybe we should just call it quits on this whole dancing thing. We've been at it for days and I'm not getting any better. If anything I think I've gotten _worse._ "

"Aw c'mon, you're not _that_ bad," Anne insisted, rather unconvincingly.

Marcy gave her a flat stare and held up her bandaged arm. Anne sighed.

"Okay fine, your dancing sucks." She adopted a determined expression. "But I'm not giving up on this, Marcy! I promised I'd turn you into the belle of the ball, and I meant it."

She began pacing back and forth, rubbing her chin. "Maybe we've just been going about this the wrong way. We need to try a different approach, a new direction. We need-"

A gurgling sound echoed through the ballroom. Both girls' hands went to their stomachs, and they looked at one another.

"We need to get some food in us," Anne said, blushing slightly. Marcy giggled.

"Follow me, I know a shortcut to the kitchen from here."

Marcy led Anne out of the Verdant Chamber and through the twisting, maze-like passageways of the Royal Castle. This time of day Parliament was in session so the hallways were empty, save for the occasional scurrying servant.

“Oh hey, did you talk to King Adrias about that… favor I asked for?” Anne asked. She cringed at the memories of her and Polly’s ill-fated attempt to experience Newtiopia “like the locals.”

“Hmm? Oh right, that little _incident_ in District Twelve.” Marcy waved a hand. “Yeah, the King took care of everything. All damages were paid for, an apology on your behalf was issued, all that good stuff. But just to be on the safe side, you _might_ wanna stay away from District Twelve. Like… forever.”

Marcy gave Anne a playful shoulder slug. “Oh, and if you wanted a personal tour of the city, all you had to do was ask you goof!”

Anne chuckled. “Yeah sorry. It’s just, you were busy researching the music box with the King that day, and I figured I shouldn’t interrupt. Speaking of which, you never told me if you found anything.”

Marcy scowled. “Yeah, that’s because we didn’t. Andrias and I have gone through practically every book in the Royal Library - _the_ most extensive library in the kingdom, for the record - and haven’t found anything on that dumb music box! Now we have to wait while the servants comb through the archives to see if we missed anything.” She growled, throwing her hands up. “It’s driving me nuts! I mean, extensive research on specific topics is my _thing_ , you know?”

She looked down, her frustration giving way to guilt. “Plus it’s practically my fault we’re stuck here. I’m the one who found that stupid thing after all.”

Anne put a hand on Marcy’s shoulder, giving her a sympathetic smile. “Hey, don’t go hogging all the guilt! You may have found it, but I was the one who snatched it.”

Marcy looked up. “But-”

“No butts! We’re doing ourselves any favors beating ourselves up over what happened.” The girls rounded a corner, still focused on each other. “All we can do is learn from our mistakes, you know? So we can try and be bett-”

“ _Whoa!_ ”

Anne and Marcy jumped back with a start. They had been so engrossed in their conversation that neither had seen the cart full of cleaning supplies they had almost run into.

"Oh! My deepest apologies, Lady Marcy," said the blue-skinned newt maid pushing the cart.

“No no it’s okay,” Marcy replied, “I should’ve been watching where I was going. Sorry about that, uh…”

Marcy pursed her lips. She had seen this woman around the castle many times and _knew_ her name. It was… Janet? Jenny? Jessie?

“Jillian!” Anne said -

( _Dang it, that was gonna be my next guess,_ Marcy thought.) 

\- with a big smile. “How’s it hanging, girl?”

Jillian perked up, looking past Marcy. “Oh, Lady Anne! So good to see you!”

“Back atcha! But I told you, none of that fancy-pants “Lady” stuff. It’s just Anne.”

Anne saw the confused look on Marcy’s face, and explained; “Oh, I met Jilly here when I came over for our first dance lesson the other day.”

“How are those going?” Jillian asked.

Marcy chuckled awkwardly and held up her bandaged arm. “They’re, uh… they’re going.”

Anne leaned forward on the cleaning cart, eyes sparkling. “So Jilly, weren’t you telling me the other day that you had a big date last night? How’d that go?”

“Oh Anne, it was wonderful,” Jillian said with a sigh, clasping her hands together. “He took me to one of the fanciest restaurants in the city, we went dancing, we took a carriage ride under the stars.” She smiled coyly as she removed the rubber glove on her left hand. “And at the end of the night I got this nifty little ring.”

Anne gasped, staring at the golden band. “No.”

Jillian just nodded, smiling broadly. Anne let out a high-pitched _squee_ of delight, practically leaping around the cart to grab Jillian’s hands, bouncing like an excited puppy.

“O-M-gosh, that’s amazing!”

“I know, right?!”

“How long did you say you’d been going out? Two years?”

“Three! I was starting to think he’d never ask.”

“I’m so happy for you!”

Marcy smiled as she watched Anne and Jillian gush over the latter's engagement. That was just like Anne; meeting someone new, becoming interested in their life and connecting with them as though they had been friends for years. She truly envied that about Anne. Meanwhile Marcy had been at the castle for months and she barely knew Jillian's _name,_ let alone the details of her personal life.

How did Anne do it? How did she make being sociable look so… _easy?_

“Lady Marcy?” Jillian asked, bringing Marcy out of her thoughts. “I was wondering, do you by chance have a dress for the ball yet?”

That brought Marcy up short. She and Anne had been so focused on trying (and failing) to improve her complete lack of dancing skills that neither of them had considered the other things on their to-do list, like a dress. It wasn’t like Marcy could show up to the Midsummer Ball in her Ranger armor, after all.

“I… don’t actually,” Marcy finally said. She rubbed her chin. “Maybe I could ask Olivia if she has one I can borrow?”

“Actually, if I may…” Jillian dug deep into her uniform’s pocket, producing a small business card. “My cousin owns a boutique in District Three. She does _great_ work. Maybe you’ll find something there you’d like?”

“Jill, that’s perfect!” Anne grinned widely as she accepted the card. “What do you say, Marbles? Up for a little shopping spree?”

Marcy’s smile was radiant. “Sounds perfect!”

A loud gurgle made Jillian jump. She looked between the two human girls, who chuckled sheepishly.

“Right after a quick stop at the kitchen.”

* * *

“How do you do it, Anne?”

Anne and Marcy sat in the back of a hermit crab carriage, its toad driver sitting up front to steer the crustacean through the busy streets of Newtopia. The girls had a bag of toasted cricket legs between them, whipped up by the castle cooks before they had started off to Jillian’s cousin’s boutique.

“Well I wasn’t crazy about the bugs at first, like _at all,_ ” Anne explained as she grabbed another cricket leg. “But I got sick of eating nothing but plants, so I started to try little bits here and there, and after a while I started to like ‘em. It helps to think of it as just another meat like chicken or pork, you know?”

Marcy shook her head. “I’m not talking about eating bugs,” she said. “I mean, how are you so good with people? Just look at you! On your first day here you had three complete strangers risking their lives to save us from that sewer gator. And now we’ve got a lead on getting me a dress thanks to someone you’ve only known for a few days. What’s your secret?”

Anne took a big bite of her cricket leg, chewing while she mulled over Marcy’s question.

"I… guess I never really thought about it," Anne finally said. "Most times I just get to talking with people and the conversation just flows, you know? But don't go thinking I can just get along with everyone instantly. It took Wartwood a _long_ time to warm up to me."

She looked at the window as she thought back to her time in that small farming town. “At first I was really just being nice so I wouldn’t get chased out of town by an angry mob, you know? But after you really get to know someone, learn their hopes and dreams and opinions while they learn yours, it just… creates this bond, you know? Sorry if this isn’t making any sense.”

“No no, I totally get where you’re coming from,” Marcy said. She sighed sullenly. “I just wish _I_ could be better at it.”

Anne turned back to her. “Maybe we’re looking at this from the wrong angle. Why do _you_ feel like you have trouble socializing?”

Marcy thought for a long minute. “I guess… it’s kind of a trust thing? Like when I meet someone new, I can never be sure what’s going on in their head and I automatically assume the worst.” She drew in on herself, looking down. “Like they’re just waiting for me to say or do something stupid so they can laugh or get angry at me. Then I either freeze up or just start rambling about whatever and then I feel like an idiot and I just _know_ they’re thinking the same thing and…”

She trailed off. Anne scooted closer, putting a comforting hand on Marcy’s shoulder. She looked up with a sad smile. “I mean, you remember how I was when I first met you and Sasha, right?”

“How could I forget?” Anne replied with a chuckle. “Second grade, when Mrs. Farmer paired us with you for that group book report. You kept looking at us like we were gonna bite your head off if you made a wrong move.”

“Yeah, you guys tried for days to get me to talk about something other than the assignment. Kept saying that if we got to know each other, we could work better together.” Marcy sighed again. “I’ll be honest: at first I wasn’t interested in getting to know either of you at all. I really just wanted us to finish our report so we could go our separate ways. But you know what?” 

Marcy reached up to take Anne’s hand in her own. “I’m glad you didn’t give up. My life has been so much better since you came into it.”

Anne said nothing. She shared a warm smile with Marcy as they looked deep into each other’s eyes with their hands linked.

Until the carriage hit a sharp bump, knocking both girls out of the moment.

“Uh, you _and Sasha,_ I mean,” Marcy quickly said. She pulled her hand away from Anne’s, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. “I’m glad that _both_ of you are my friends.”

“Uh, y-yeah, I’m glad we’re your friends too,” Anne said with a forced chuckle, feeling her face grow warm. She cleared her throat. “Okay, back on topic. So you have trouble trusting new people, and that’s why you have trouble talking with them and actually getting to know them?”

Marcy sighed. “Yeah. Sometimes I wish life could be more like one of my games, you know? If I need to talk to anyone I can just pick an option from a menu or roll some dice to see if I succeed or fail. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about actually _saying_ stuff, you know?”

Anne pursed her lips as she leaned back, thinking. “Like one of your games… Hmm…”

She shot up with a gasp, grabbing Marcy’s shoulders. “That’s it! Mar-Mar, you’re a genius! That’s the angle we’ve been missing!”

Marcy furrowed her brow. “Uh, I’m not following you.”

“Okay, you love role playing games, right? Games where you put yourself in the shoes of the character you’re playing, and think about things from a perspective different than your own?”

“That’s the basic gist of it, yeah.”

“And you said that when you first got here, you just _role played_ as an articulate rogue, right?”

“Artificer/rogue, but yes.”

Anne nodded. “Right, you found a role and played into it to get where you are today. You went from Marcy Wu the clumsy gamer girl to Lady Marcy, Chief Ranger of the Knight Guard and defender of Newtopia. We just need to take that same principle and apply it to your social skills. Marcy Wu may have had trouble looking people in the eye and holding conversations, but _Lady Marcy_ is confident and charismatic. Lady Marcy doesn’t worry about what others think of her, because she knows exactly what to say to get on their good side.”

Marcy stewed on Anne’s words. “So… you’re saying I should just fake it ‘til I make it?”

“Exactly!” Anne winked and pointed. “Just play the role of someone who’s sociable, and that’s what you’ll be in no time.”

The carriage came to a halt. There was a knock at the privacy window at the front of the cab.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” came the gruff voice of the driver, “but we’ve reached your destination.”

“Ah, perfect timing!”

They exited the cab, and Marcy sent the driver on his way with the fare and a generous tip. The two girls stood on the busy metropolitan sidewalk, pedestrians hurrying around them as they looked up at the boutique. A half-dozen mannequins were posed in the display window, showing off a wide variety of colorful suits and dresses. A sign hanging by the door read “Fiona’s Formal Wear” in cursive black lettering.

“Okay, here’s what I want you to do,” Anne said to Marcy. “While we’re shopping for a dress, I want you to practice making small talk with the employees. Remember, you’re Lady Marcy, who’s confident and charismatic. Got it?”

“Got it,” Marcy said with a nod. She audibly gulped and thought to herself: _I hope…_

The inside of Fiona's Formal Wear was quiet, save for the easy-going muzak coming from the wall-mounted speakers. The store was small but densely packed, the racks lined with suits and dresses of all shapes and sizes. Behind the counter in the back, a blue newt woman with her blond hair tied up in a bun looked up from the magazine she was reading at the sound of the door being opened. Her name tag identified her as “Fiona.”

“Hello there! Welcome to Fiona’s…” she trailed off when she saw the girls, her eyes going wide. “Oh my! Are you… Marcy Wu?”

Marcy felt a surge of panic as Fiona stared at her. The words of Anne and Olivia echoed in her head.

_You must be self-assured in attitude and appearance._

_Lady Marcy is confident and charismatic._

Fighting her natural urge to shy away from a stranger’s greeting, Marcy squared up her shoulders, matched Fiona’s gaze and said with a smile: “Indeed I am. Lady Marcy Wu, Chief Ranger of the Newtopian Knight Guard, at your service. And this is my friend, Lady Anne Boonchuy.”

“Oh my!” Fiona cleared her throat and stood up straight, doing her best to look professional. “How can I help you ladies today?”

Marcy laced her fingers behind her back. “I have received an invitation to Sycamore family’s Midsummer Ball, and am in need of a dress for the occasion. Perhaps you can be of assistance?”

Fiona’s eyes widened further. “You… you want one of _my_ dresses for the _Midsummer Ball_?” At Marcy’s nod, she smiled brightly. “Oh! Oh, t-this is such an honor! Please, come in!” 

She turned around to poke her head behind a red curtain that led to the back part of the store. “Gordo! Get the measuring tape! We have a customer here who’s going to the Midsummer Ball! … I know, isn’t it exciting?!”

While Fiona’s back was turned, Marcy let her confident demeanor drop. She nervously looked to Anne, who smiled and gave her a thumbs up.

“You’re doing great, Mar-Mar,” she whispered. “Keep it up. I believe in you.”

 _I believe in you._ For reasons Marcy couldn’t quite explain, those words coming from Anne made Marcy’s heart flutter in her chest. Before she could ponder on that, Fiona turned back around and Marcy slipped back into her confident persona.

“Right this way, ladies,” Fiona said, waving them up. “The fitting room is right over here.”

The fitting room in question was a small alcove to the left of the front counter. Full-length mirrors lined one wall, a privacy screen stood in one corner, and a few chairs sat beside an end table piled with old magazines. Anne took a seat while Fiona had Marcy stand in the center of the room, where a violet newt with immaculately-coiffed black hair was waiting with measuring tape in hand.

“Now, first things first, we’ll need to take your measurements,” Fiona said. “Gordo, if you would?”

Gordo nodded and began to measure Marcy: height, arm span, waist, etc. Fiona produced a pencil and notepad from her pocket, marking down each measurement. Marcy tried her best not to flinch at the close contact.

“Now did you want to commission a custom outfit?” Fiona asked. “Or would you like to purchase one of our existing dresses?”

“Just a dress you already have is fine,” Marcy replied.

“And did you have any specific color scheme in mind?”

Marcy thought for a few seconds. “Well, I’ve always been partial to green.”

Fiona made a note of that. “Hmm, yes you do seem like a spring. I feel like a cooler green would match well with your complexion.”

“I’ll trust your judgement, madam.”

“All done, Ms. Fiona,” Gordo interjected, standing up.

“Very good, Gordo,” Fiona said, tearing out the paper from her notepad and handing it to him. “Be a dear and fetch some gowns with these measurements. And remember we’re looking for a cool green.”

Gordo nodded, dashing off into the main section of the store. The fitting room fell silent except for the sound of Fiona’s pen scribbling on paper as she started on another note. Marcy cast a nervous glance at Anne, who mouthed the words _small talk_ at her. She pointed to the ring finger of her left hand and nodded towards Fiona.

“So, Ms. Fiona,” Marcy said, doing her best to keep her voice even as she maintained her collected composure, “before we came here, your cousin Jillian was telling us about her engagement.”

Fiona squealed, beaming as she looked up from her notes. “I know, isn’t it exciting? She and Mark have been dating for so long, I’m glad to see them finally take the next step in their relationship.”

Marcy nodded. In her head, she pictured a text box of dialogue options, straight from one of her games.

_\- So do you have a significant other?_

_\- When’s the wedding?_

_\- Will you be designing the dresses?_

She cycled through her options in a fraction of a second, quickly choosing the best one to increase her social points with Fiona the tailor. After all, Lady Marcy always knows what to say to get on someone's good side.

“So has Jillian come to you for a dress yet?” she asked. Fiona nodded.

“Yup! Just this morning, in fact,” she said. She flipped to another page in her notepad, showing Marcy a rough sketch of a poofy wedding gown. Her smile fell slightly. “It’s actually my first time designing a wedding dress, and I’m a little nervous. It has to be _perfect_. Jillian always supported my dream of being a tailor, and now it's my turn to support her.”

Marcy smiled. “Well if what I’ve seen in your store is anything to go by, Jillian will have the most beautiful dress Newtopia has ever seen.”

“Aw! That’s very kind of you, Lady Marcy.”

It was at that point that Gordo returned, carrying several dresses in his arms, all in various shades of cool green.

“Ah, excellent timing Gordo,” Fiona said. “What do you think of these dresses, Lady Marcy?”

Marcy picked up the first dress, holding it in front of her and turning to look at herself in the mirror. It was a seafoam number with poofy sleeves and a wide skirt, like the petals of a blossoming flower.

“Hmm… what do you think, Anne?” Marcy asked. Anne pursed her lips.

“Eh, I think that one’s a little too ‘princess-y’ for you,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Marcy said, shaking her head.

She handed the dress off to Fiona and took the next one from Gordo. This one was a much-thinner floor-length dress, pine-colored with sparkling gold trim. Marcy hummed as she held it in front of her, picturing herself wearing it on the dance floor.

“Better, but this shade is a bit too dark for my taste,” she said, passing it to Fiona. The newt set both dresses aside and began thumbing through the dresses in Gordo’s arms.

“I think I have an idea…” she said. “Where is it…? Aha! How about this one, Lady Marcy?”

Fiona held out the garment for Marcy to see. It was another thin dress that ended at knee-level, emerald in color with long sleeves capped by viridian frills around the wrist. Matching trim circled the triangular neckline, and the skirt was dotted with jade sequins.

“Ooh, I _like_ that one,” Anne said.

“Me too,” Marcy said as she took the dress. “I think we might have a winner here.”

Fiona nodded and motioned to the privacy screen. “Go ahead, try it on.”

Marcy nodded and walked off behind the wooden screen. From behind came the sound of rustling fabric as Marcy’s Ranger cloak was thrown up from behind and draped over the top of the screen.

“So, will anyone be escorting you to the Midsummer Ball?” Fiona asked.

Anne’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah, your invitation came with a plus one.”

“Yeah, I know,” Marcy replied hesitantly. “I haven’t given it much thought, to be honest. It’s taken me months to get used to living in a world of giant talking newts and frogs, and I’m not really looking to… date any of them. No offense.”

Fiona waved it off. “None taken dear, we all have our preferences. Plus you are a ‘hyoo-man’ so it’s understandable.”

“And even if I was interested, I’m… Well, let’s just say I haven’t been too successful when it comes to romance.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Anne said in a teasing tone. “Remember Jake Richards?”

Marcy groaned, and Anne could almost _hear_ her rolling her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

“Unwanted suitor?” Gordo asked.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Marcy replied. “He was some dorky little kid who had a crush on me back in third grade, was always giving me weird gifts and following me around like a lost puppy. Kinda creeped me out to be honest, and he just couldn’t take a hint that I wasn’t interested.”

“No he did eventually,” Anne said with a smirk. “After I had that friendly little chat with him.”

“A ‘friendly little chat’? You kicked him off the top of the monkey bars!”

“ _And_ he left you alone after that.”

“That… Okay yeah, that’s true. Can’t argue with the results.”

Anne chuckled, leaning back in her seat with her fingers laced behind her head. “They don’t call me the Breakup Queen for nothing.”

It was at that point that Marcy hesitantly stepped out from behind the screen. Anne leaned forward, stunned. Marcy looked _amazing_ in her dress, radiant like a polished gemstone. She gave a slow twirl as she looked herself over in the mirror, sequins on the skirt glittering in the light.

“Oh wow,” Marcy finally said, staring at herself. “I… I look good!”

“More than good,” Anne said with a double thumbs up. “You look fantastic! Fiona, I think we have a winner!”

“I should say so,” Fiona said with a nod, looking closely as she walked around Marcy. She made a few quick notes in her notepad. “Hmm, we’ll have to make a few adjustments to account for your lack of a tail… I can have it ready for you by tomorrow afternoon. Is that acceptable, Lady Marcy?”

Marcy nodded. “Perfect! Ring it up!”

With that, Marcy changed back to her normal clothes and handed the dress off to Gordo, who scurried off to the back room at Fiona’s behest. Anne paid for the dress with the royal credit card, and the two girls bid Fiona _aedui_ as they left the shop. The girls took a seat on a nearby bench, the midday sun hanging high in the cloudless blue sky. Marcy sighed heavily, finally allowing herself to relax.

“So, how’d I do?” She asked.

“You did great, Marcy,” Anne replied, giving her a proud smile.

“Well that’s good. Felt like any second she was gonna realize just how much of a phony I was being.”

Anne shook her head. “See, that’s what we’ve gotta work on. You need to give yourself more credit, Marbles. Remember, Lady Marcy is confident. Lady Marcy doesn’t let doubts or fear weigh her down.”

Marcy rolled her eyes. “‘Lady Marcy’ wouldn’t have even remembered that Fiona’s cousin was engaged if you hadn’t been there to remind me. Hell, the only reason I didn’t freeze up at all was because you were there with me.” Marcy leaned back, gazing up at the sky. “I don’t know what it is, Anne, but having you with me just… gives me this boost. Fills me with a confidence that I would never have on my own.” She narrowed her eyes. “Having you with me…”

Marcy shot up with a gasp, startling Anne. “That’s it!"

“Uh, what’s it?” Anne asked.

“That’s how I can not make myself look like a fool at this dance! That’s how I can face all those nobles without having a complete breakdown!”

By now the gears were turning in Anne’s brain. “Do you mean… ?”

Marcy turned to face her friend. She took a deep breath, falling back into her Lady Marcy persona. Calm. Collected. Confident. She sat up straight, looked her best friend in the eyes, and asked in a steady voice:

“Anne Boonchuy, will you go with me to the Midsummer Ball?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about ending on a cliffhanger like that. But this chapter was already longer than the first two combined, and I had to put the cut-off point somewhere. Longer chapters are all well and good, but I'm also aiming for weekly updates with a super-busy work schedule, so I don't want to get in a habit of trying to write extremely long chapters every single week and feeling discouraged if I fail to meet that expectation. It's been hard enough to get in the habit of writing every single day as is.
> 
> Also I apologize for the stark lack of description regarding Marcy's outfits. I have the fashion sense of a bucket of doorknobs.


	4. Reflections and Revelations

_Will you go with me to the Midsummer Ball?_

Those nine words repeated themselves on loop at lightning speed inside Anne’s brain as she sat on the bench, staring at Marcy with wide eyes. Marcy herself looked to Anne with a hopeful gaze and a nervous smile as she played with the hem of her cloak.

“I mean… i-if you want to,” she stammered, confidence giving way to her usual anxiety as she awaited a response. Her eyes began darting around and her shoulders slumped. “It’s just, well… I just feel more confident when you’re around. W-with social situations and, uh, stuff…”

Anne opened and closed her mouth several times, a faint blush coming to her cheeks. “Um… Well, I uh…”

“ _Look mommy! It’s Lady Marcy!_ ”

The two girls looked up towards the source of the disturbance. A little newt girl was practically dragging her mother down the sidewalk, looking at Marcy with wonder in her eyes.

“Oh look!” Anne said with a forced smile. “Another chance to practice being sociable! Go ahead, _Lady Marcy_.”

Marcy took a deep breath, sitting up straight and maintaining eye contact as the newts approached.

“Good afternoon, citizens,” she said, bowing politely.

“And good afternoon to you, Lady Marcy,” the frazzled woman said. “Sorry for the disturbance, my daughter is _quite_ a fan of yours.”

“I can tell,” Marcy said with a nod. She stood up and knelt down, putting her at eye level with the child. “What’s your name, little one?”

“My name is Sandra!” The little newt girl said, smiling broadly. “And when I grow up, I wanna be a great ranger just like you, Lady Marcy!”

Sandra grabbed a stick off the ground and struck a pose, holding it triumphantly in the air like a sword. Marcy chuckled and clapped politely.

“Well you’ve certainly got the spirit of a ranger!”

While Marcy talked with the little girl, Anne had a moment to breath and gather her swarming thoughts. She pushed aside the mental image of the two of them on the dance floor-

( _God Marcy looked good in that dress_ )

\- that kept trying to force its way into her brain. Instead, she zeroed in on what Marcy said just minutes ago about the reasoning behind her request.

_Having you with me just gives me this boost. Fills me with a confidence I’d never have on my own._

Confidence she’d never have?

Anne thought back to all of the things she had seen and heard about regarding Marcy since their reunion almost two weeks ago. How for the last several months she had been taking on giant bugs, enormous birds and bloodthirsty bandits, never failing a mission and becoming the head of an entire military branch. The way she had first slid down that rope to greet them, cloak fluttering behind her like some kind of comic book hero. And how she had jumped _into_ the mouth of a giant ant to save Sprig, someone she had known for only a few hours at most.

Marcy had indeed levelled up. And all without Anne’s help.

Yet here she was now, barely holding it together as she drew her (thankfully unloaded) arm-mounted crossbow from her belt to show the excited child. Marcy may have looked at ease to the untrained eye, but Anne had known her for years and could sense the subtle signs of her social anxiety: the way her lips twitched as she held the smile, the faint tremor in her voice, the way she kept tugging at the hem of her cloak. Just like back home.

_You give me confidence that I'd never have on my own._

After all this time, after everything that had changed, Marcy still needed her in some way. It was a feeling that warmed Anne's heart. Maybe Marcy didn't need protecting anymore, but Anne could still be there for her to lift her spirits. To ease her anxiety. To remind her that she's better than she thinks she is. To hold her close on the dance floor, their faces inches apart-

Anne shook her head, derailing that train of thought.

"Okay Sandra, we need to be getting home," the newt mother said as she gently took her daughter's hand. "Sorry for the trouble, Lady Marcy."

"None taken," Marcy replied with a bow. "You two take care now."

"Bye Miss Marcy!" Sandra said, looking back and waving as she walked away with her mother. As soon as they turned the corner Marcy let out a sharp breath and plopped back down on the bench.

“Glad that’s over,” she said. She looked over to Anne, her soft features marred by guilt. “Listen Anne, I’m sorry I put you on the spot like that. I’m not gonna make you go with me if you don’t-”

“Yes.”

Marcy blinked. “Uh, yes as in you _don’t_ want to go, or yes as in-”

“Yes I’ll go with you!” Anne said with a big smile, running a hand through her hair. “I just can’t believe we didn’t think of that sooner! Of _course_ you’d be uncomfortable being the only human at one of the fanciest parties in Newtopia, so it only makes sense that I should go as your da - uh as your _plus one!_ ”

Hope trickled back into Marcy’s expression. “You really mean it?”

In response, Anna stood up and bowed in reverence. “Lady Marcy,” she said in a posh, dignified voice, “I would be honored to escort you to the Midsummer Ball.”

Marcy giggled at the display, sitting up straight and putting a hand to her chest. “Marvelous! Together we shall be the toast of the ball!"

“We’ll be the talk of the town!”

“Let us grace the nobles with our presence so that they may bask in our radiance!”

The girls looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

“Seriously though, I would’ve felt so awkward going stag,” Marcy said when her laughter died down. “Thank you _so much_ Anne.”

Anne smiled. “What are fiends for?”

Marcy was about to reply when an arrow from nowhere stuck into the bench, making both girls jump. A scroll was tied around it, marked with the royal seal.

“Another puzzle-gram from the king?” Anne asked as Marcy unrolled the scroll. She grimaced as she read it.

“Nope, just a normal message. Looks like there’s a situation at the castle. Guess some giant cockroaches got into the cellar again.”

Anne raised an eyebrow. “They need the Chief Ranger just to take care of a few roaches?”

By now Marcy had stowed away the letter and was fixing her crossbow to her forearm. “You know the radroaches from the _Fallout_ games I showed you? They’re like that, but a _lot_ meaner.”

“... Didn’t your parents say you weren’t allowed to play those games?”

“Meh, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Marcy checked the case of crossbow bolts on her belt. “It’ll probably take the rest of the day for me to get this infestation cleared, so what say we meet at the castle at our regular time tomorrow for another dance lesson?”

“Oh shoot!” Anne’s eyes widened. “I just realized, we _might_ have a problem.” She looked away, rubbing the back of her head. “I kinda, sorta… don’t know how to dance with a partner. Closest I’ve ever done is two-player mode in Super Dance Fusion.”

Marcy rubbed her chin, thinking. “Hmm… I think I know someone who can help us. Just meet me at the castle at our usual time tomorrow, okay?”

Anne nodded, then yelped as Marcy shot forward and wrapped her arms around her.

“Thanks again, Anna-Banana,” Marcy said, hugging tightly. “For all of this. Love you girl!”

Anne blushed, but smiled and returned the hug. “Love you too Marbles.”

With that Marcy broke off the hug and turned towards the street, whistling sharply and waving down an approaching carriage. “Taxi!” The carriage pulled over and Marcy was already climbing into the cabin before it even came to a stop. “The Royal Castle, and step on it.”

Marcy gave one last wave goodbye to Anne as the carriage sped off. Anne was still blushing and smiling as she drove away, her thoughts filled with images of her and Marcy together on the dance floor. Their bodies moving together in harmony, the crowd awed by their moves, Marcy smiling and laughing as they twirled together, her dress sparkling in the light-

“Oh crap!”

Anne tore off, dashing back to Fiona’s Formal Wear. The blonde newt behind the front desk jumped at the sound of her door being slammed open.

“Oh, Miss… Boonchuy, was it?” Fiona asked as Anne ran up to her. “Did Lady Marcy need anything else?”

“Actually _I_ need your help,” Anne said. “Can you fit me for a suit?”

* * *

Lady Olivia sat alone in her chamber in the western wing of the Royal Castle, looking out the large bay window. From up here she had a magnificent view of Newtopia and the surrounding inland sea, and the late afternoon sun streaming in made the room warm, but not unpleasantly so.

Olivia smiled contentedly as she reached for the teapot and teacup resting on the table in front of her and poured a steaming cup of chamomile. This had been one of those extremely rare days when she not only finished all of her daily duties as Royal Advisor, but had finished them _early._ There were no meetings to sit through, no paperwork to fill out, no imminent threats to the kingdom to be addressed. Nothing left for Olivia to do except unwind and enjoy the tranquility of a peaceful summer-

There was a knock at the door.

" _Pardon me, Lady Olivia,_ " came the voice of her personal guard, " _but Lady Marcy wishes to speak with you._ "

Olivia sighed and set her tea down. _Well that was short-lived_.

"Send her in," she called out.

The door swung open and Marcy strolled in, her pace hurried. Her cloak and armor were stained with ichor, the smell of which made Olivia wrinkle her nose.

“Good evening, Lady Olivia,” Marcy said as she sat down in the chair opposite of the Royal Advisor.

“And to you, Lady Marcy,” Olivia said. “Judging by your attire, I take it you were successful in dealing with that little infestation in the cellar?”

“Hmm? Oh the roaches. Yeah they were all taken care of. Basic level one quest, more grinding for XP than anything.”

More of those “video game” terms Marcy was so fond of using, Olivia assumed. One of these days she really should have Marcy explain those in greater detail. Especially since the King had grown fond of that Switch or Snap or whatever that device was called.

“But that’s not why I’m here,” Marcy continued. “I actually wanted to ask you for a favor. Do you know anything about ballroom dancing?”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, taking a much-needed sip of tea. “I know a bit,” she said. “Is this about the Midsummer Ball? I was under the impression that Lady Anne was teaching you how to dance.”

“She was, but now we _both_ need to learn slow dancing.”

Olivia nodded. “Ah, I see. You’ve decided that she’ll be your plus one, then?” Marcy nodded. “And she isn’t familiar with the art of ballroom dancing?” Another nod. Lady Olivia thought for a minute. “Well, I’d have to rearrange my schedule, delegate a few tasks… but I’m sure I could spare a few hours out of these next few days.”

Marcy smiled and gave a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Lady Olivia.”

Olivia smiled back. “After all you’ve done for Newtopia, it’s the least I could do.” She took another sip of tea. “Was that all?”

“Actually no.” Marcy's smile fell as she glanced off to the side. “I was kind of hoping I could get some… personal advice, if you don’t mind.”

Olivia arched a brow again. “Not at all, but don’t you normally go to King Andrias for that sort of thing? You always have before.”

“Yeah but I could use a… woman’s perspective with this.”

“Say no more.” Olivia set down her cup and gave Marcy her undivided attention. “What seems to be the problem, Lady Marcy?”

Marcy took a deep breath, drumming her fingertips on her knees. “So, I have this friend who’s having a problem. Let’s call her… Mercy.”

Olivia crossed her arms, but said nothing.

“You see, Mercy has been best friends with this other girl… _Jan_ for years now. Recent circumstances had forced them apart for the last few months, but now they’re back together again. They’ve been spending a lot of time together, and now I - _er uh Mercy_ is worried that she’s starting to develop… feelings for Jan. You know… romantically.”

“... Uh-huh.” Lady Olivia nodded slowly. “So you need advice on your budding feelings for Lady Anne?”

“No no no no!” Marcy said frantically, waving her arms and blushing. “This has nothing to do with me and Anne! This is all about _Mercy_ and _Jan_ , they’re the ones who… I-I mean she’s the one… They, um…”

Marcy trailed off, letting her arms drop. “You’re not buying that, are you?”

“Not even for a second, Miss Wu.”

Marcy let out a huff, slumping back in her chair. “Fine, I admit it! I think I have a crush on my best friend, okay?”

“Yes, that much was obvious.” Another pause for more tea. “Well to start, when did you first notice these feelings?”

“Well, I only really started noticing how I felt around her today, and I wanna say it started back when we first reunited.” Marcy paused, fidgeting with the hem of her cloak. “But the more I think about it, the more I think these feelings… _might_ go back farther than that. Maybe even back to when Anne, Sasha and me were just normal girls living in our own world.”

“I see. What was that like, exactly? You hardly talk about the world you came from.”

“That’s because there’s not much _to_ talk about. Besides going to school, the three of us did normal kids stuff: hang out at the mall, watch trashy TV, eat junk food, have the occasional sleepover, stuff like that. And yeah, we each had our own personal hobbies: I had my games, Sasha had the cheer squad, Anne helped out at her parent’s restaurant. But at the end of the day we always made time for each other. Making each other laugh with dumb jokes, two of us being there when the third was sad about something… We always had each others’ backs, you know.”

“Hmm…" Olivia nodded thoughtfully. "You’ve mentioned this ‘Sasha’ girl several times. If I may ask, what makes her different from Anne?”

Marcy chuckled. "I guess you could say Sasha was the leader of our little group. Nine out of ten times, she was the one who came up with the plans. And she had this way with people, like she knew exactly what made them tick. If there was ever a time when we got caught doing something that could get us in trouble, she always knew just what to say to take the heat off."

Marcy looked down, a small blush coloring her cheeks. "Anne on the other hand… she's also a people person, but in a totally different way. She has a talent for bonding with people she's only known for a short time. Something about her personality is just… magnetic, I guess. It draws you in, and before you know it you're laughing and chatting like you've known her for years. Anne's good with people in ways I never was, and now that's what she's trying to help me with."

"Yes, as you mentioned at breakfast the other day," Olivia said. "Let me ask: if Anne hadn't volunteered to tutor you, would you have gone to the Midsummer Ball?"

Marcy barked out a laugh. "I was _literally_ about to break my own leg to have an excuse not to go. That answer your question?"

"Indeed. So what I'm hearing is that you and Anne have been friends for years. You've been there for each other through good times and bad. And now she's inspiring you to step outside of your comfort zone and improve yourself as a person?"

Marcy nodded slowly. "Yes to all of the above. Do you… think it's love?"

"Well you're still young, so I wouldn't go so far as to call it _love_." Olivia shrugged. "But it's obvious you feel _something_ towards Lady Anne."

"Yeah… yeah, I think you're right." Marcy gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks for the advice, Olivia."

Olivia smiled warmly. "Anytime, dear. So, will you confess your feelings before or during the dance?"

"Oh, I'm not gonna confess to her at _all_."

Olivia blinked. "... I beg your pardon?"

"Yeah there’s _no way_ I'm telling Anne how I feel!"

Olivia stared at Marcy, incredulous. "Then what was the point of this whole conversation?"

"I was having these weird feelings and needed help figuring out what they meant." Marcy smiled brightly. "Now that I know, I can bury them deep deep deep deep _deep_ down where they'll never see the light of day!"

“I’m… not sure that’s a healthy way of dealing with your emotions,” Olivia said with a frown. “In fact, I’m _positive_ it isn’t.”

“Yeah well you know what? We’re a couple of teen girls trapped in another world, we have no freaking idea how to get back home, we still need to find our missing friend and fix things with her, _and_ we still need to train me so I don’t look like an idiot at one of Newtopia’s biggest social events. Our lives are complicated enough as is; the last thing we need is me and my stupid _feelings_ complicating things even more. Besides…”

Marcy sighed, casting a forlorn glance out the window. “Even if I _did_ confess, I’d just be wasting my time. There’s no way someone as sweet and kind and funny as Anne would ever fall for someone like me.”

* * *

“Hop Pop, I think I might be falling for Marcy.”

From his spot across the table, Hop Pop looked at Anne with wide eyes. “Well,” he finally said, “that’s one heck of a way to start a conversation.”

It was late afternoon at the Hemisphere Hotel, the finest hotel in all of Newtopia. The hotel/mall’s central corridor was bustling this time of day, packed with newts either returning from a day of sightseeing or preparing to head out and experience Newtopia's nightlife.

Hop Pop sat with his adopted granddaughter at a table in a far-off corner of the hotel’s food court, surrounded by decorative potted plants and two bowls of cricket ice cream placed before them. Sprig and Polly weren’t with them; Anne had told Hop Pop that she needed to talk to him about “something important,” so the elderly frog had suggested his grandson take his little sister for a ride on the Hemisphere’s indoor ferris wheel.

"Yeah I know, sorry," Anne said. She set her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her palm. "I just have… a lot on my mind right now. Like _a lot_."

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Hop Pop said. He gave Anne a patient smile. "Take all the time you need to gather your thoughts. I'm ready to listen when you're ready to talk."

Anne just nodded. The two ate their ice cream without a word, the silence filled by the collective chattering of their fellow mall patrons. Well, Hop Pop ate; Anne just absent-mindedly pushed her ice cream around with her spoon. After several long minutes, she pushed her bowl off to the side and sighed.

"Hop Pop?" Anne finally asked. "Do you think I'm selfish?"

"Absolutely not!" Hop Pop replied instantly. He sounded offended that Anne would dare think that about herself. "Sure, there are times when you can be a bit… short-sighted. But you are a kind and caring young woman, Anne. Why would you even go and think that?"

Anne sighed heavily. “It’s just… back home, I was always the one looking out for Marcy. She was super clumsy and oblivious, and I was always keeping her from walking into walls or slipping on wet floors or whatever. And while she’s still kind of like that, she’s also grown into this amazing warrior, all on her own. And I _am_ happy for her; really I am. But seeing her do all those amazing things, hearing about all of the other cool things she’s accomplished…” Anne looked down, her voice quiet. “I was starting to worry that she… wouldn’t need me anymore.”

Hop Pop opened his mouth, but Anne waved him off. “I _know_ that’s a terrible thing to think about a friend, I just can’t help it. So when Marcy got that invitation to the Midsummer Ball and didn’t wanna go at first, I thought this was my chance to help Marcy improve herself and show that I could still be there for her. But seeing her struggle to dance and be sociable and with how much I keep pushing her, I’m starting to think: am I really doing this for her? Or am I just doing it so _I_ don’t feel useless?”

Anne’s voice gained a slight tremor. “And now I agreed to be her plus one to the Midsummer Ball so she wouldn’t feel so awkward there by herself and I’m starting to get all of these weird _feelings_ when I’m around her and I just… I just don’t know, okay?”

Hop Pop reached across the table, placing his hand over Anne’s. “It’s alright Anne,” he said gently. “I understand where you’re coming from. When you’re growing up and start changing as a person and all your friends are doing the same, it’s perfectly normal to worry that you’ll grow apart from them. And I won’t lie: that _does_ happen sometimes. But with how close you and Marcy are, I’d bet the whole family farm that you two will still be friends no matter what changes come your way.”

Anne sniffled, but nodded.

“And as to your second point, you are _not_ a selfish person. What’s a good example…?” Hop Pop rubbed his chin as he wracked his brain, then smiled and snapped his fingers. “Ah! Remember the whole deal with Stumpy, back in Wartwood? You helped him get his restaurant completely turned around.”

Anne scoffed. “Yeah, because I let some food critic get under my skin and made a bet that a meal from Stumpy’s could knock his socks off. See? Selfish.”

“It may have _started_ that way,” Hop Pop said, “but you genuinely grew to like the place and Stumpy himself, didn’t you?”

Anne started to protest, but paused. She thought back to those long days and nights she had spent with Stumpy, getting his restaurant fixed up and teaching him new recipes. Sharing personal stories, exchanging cooking tips, laughing at dumb food jokes and puns.

“Yeah,” Anne nodded and finally started to smile. “Yeah, he was a really cool guy once I got to know him.”

“And you changed Stumpy, too,” Hop Pop continued. “None of us had seen Stumpy that passionate about his food in _years_. You were the one who brought that spark back to him, Anne. Let me ask you: towards the end, were you still only focused on impressing that critic?”

Anne chuckled. “No. In fact until he showed up in that disguise, I’d almost forgotten about him.”

“Because by then, it wasn’t _about_ showing up that snobby food critic. It was about helping Stumpy become a better frog. And it's the same with Marcy! Sure you might worry about not being ‘needed,’ but you also wanna see her grow and better herself.

“Now, getting back to your feelings about Marcy… When you and her and Sasha were all just living normal lives back home, were you looking out for her just so you could feel good about yourself?”

“Of course not!” Anne replied instantly. “I looked out for her because I hated seeing her get hurt!”

Hop Pop nodded, sitting back in his chair. “So you’re saying you like seeing her happy?”

“Yes, I love seeing her happy! I love it when she smiles, I love hearing her laugh, I love how passionate she gets about her games, I lo-”

Anne froze. Hop Pop could almost hear a _ding_ as he saw the clarity in her eyes.

“I lo… _like_ Marcy,” Anne admitted, leaning back in her chair. “I really like, _like_ her.”

Hop Pop just chuckled. “Things a little clearer for you now, Anne? You feel better?”

“Yeah,” Anne nodded, smiling gratefully. “Yeah, I think I get it now. Thanks Hop Pop, I really needed this talk.”

“Happy to help.” Hop Pop turned his attention to what was left of his ice cream, taking another spoonful. “So, when were you gonna confess to her?”

“Oh I’m not confessing.”

There was a clatter as Hop Pop’s spoon slipped from his fingers and fell to the table. He paid it no mind, staring at Anne. “Uh, you’re not?”

“No way!” Anne shook her head and crossed her arms. “Marcy’s got enough on her plate now! We only have a few days left to get her ready for the Midsummer Ball, I still need to help her with being sociable, and we _both_ still need to learn how to slow dance. I’m not gonna make her even more stressed by telling her I lo- _like_ her.”

Hop Pop raised a bushy eyebrow. “But what if she likes you back?”

Anne scoffed. “Are you kidding? There’s no way someone as sweet and smart and creative as Marcy would ever fall for someone like me.”

“... Uh-huh. So then the whole point of this conversation was... ?”

“I just needed to get my feelings sorted out! Now that I have, I can bury them and focus on helping Marcy get ready for the ball.”

Hop Pop started to say something, paused, then nodded. “Well if that’s what you feel is important, then that’s what you’ve gotta do.”

“You know it, HP!” Anne picked up her bowl of ice cream, only to discover that it had melted into a bowl of sweet soup after being left unattended for so long. “Aw dang it! Be right back.”

Anne got up and took off towards the ice cream stand. Hop Pop turned in his chair to watch her go.

“You can come out now kids,” he said when Anne was out of earshot. “I know you’ve been listening.”

There was a rustle from a nearby potted plant as Sprig and Polly tumbled out from behind it with twin yelps of surprise.

“We weren’t eavesdropping!” Sprig said quickly.

“It was all Sprig’s idea!” Polly said at the same time.

Hop Pop sighed, turning towards his grandchildren. “All right, how much of that did you hear?” he asked.

“We heard the important stuff,” Sprig said. “Anne’s in love with Marcy, doesn’t think she’ll like her back, just wants to focus on getting them both ready for the dance, yadda yadda.”

“You really think it’s a good idea for Anne to just bottle up her feelings?” Polly asked, looking curiously at Hop Pop.

“Oh of course not!” Hop Pop shook his head. “But your ol’ Hop Pop has been around the block a few times, and knows how these things go.”

He turned to look back in Anne’s direction. “With all the time those two will be spending together here soon _and_ the fact that they’ll be going to the dance together… Feelings are gonna come out, mark my words. But if we try to push Anne into confessing, she’ll just double down on her denial. The best thing we can do is just let things play out naturally and be there to support Anne no matter how things go.”

Sprig and Polly nodded, and a silence settled over the Plantar family.

“So… no calling dibs on being the bouncer at their wedding?” Polly asked.

“ _Polly!_ ” Sprig and Hop Pop scolded in unison.

“I was just asking, jeez!”

* * *

_“Dearest Colleagues,_

_The situation has changed. Now it seems that both humans will be attending the Midsummer Ball. An unforeseen development to be sure, but I believe it will give us an extra edge in accomplishing our goals. We will establish contact with our connections inside the House of Sycamore and finalize our plans._

_Sincerely,_

_X”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, I got this week's chapter up a little earlier than expected! I'm also super excited to announce that this fic is now on the "Amphibia Fanfics Rec" page over on TV Tropes, which has never happened with any story I've ever written!
> 
> Since I'm in such a good mood, I'll also share this bit of cut dialogue that I feel didn't match the flow of the rest of Marcy and Olivia's conversation:
> 
> "And the whole 'childhood friends falling in love' trope?" Marcy rolled her eyes. "That's a cliche that only exists in books and movies and fanfiction written by some talentless loser!"


	5. Learning Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that this story is VERY canon divergent. I have yet to see the latest episodes, but judging by the thumbnails and titles of Youtube clips, things are moving forward and changing in big ways in the actual show. Things are progressing much differently here, with certain events from the show happening in different ways while others don't happen at all.

“How’s that, Lady Olivia?”

The white-haired butler stood up and stepped back. Olivia carefully examined the four strips of tape that formed a square on the floor of the Verdant Chamber, and nodded. “It’s perfect. Excellent work, Walter.”

“Thank you, madam,” Walter said with a satisfied smile, pocketing the roll of tape. “Was there anything else you needed?”

Olivia looked to the side at the other items Walter had brought to her. A whiteboard on wheels, markers of various colors, erasers, a record player and records of the finest Newtopian classical music… Everything she had requested.

“No, this will do,” she said, turning back to Walter. “You may return to your main duties, but first remind Melissa and Henrietta to complete the tasks I’ve given them, and that I _will_ be thoroughly checking their work later.” She adopted a stern expression. “I had to delegate several of my duties as Royal Advisor in order to help Lady Marcy, and I expect them to be completed quickly and efficiently. Make sure Melissa and Henrietta do _not_ forget that.”

“Of course, madam,” Walter replied with a nod and a bow.

“Very good. Dismissed.”

Walter stood and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the spacious ballroom. He reached the doors just as Anne and Marcy walked in. He deftly stepped around them to make his exit, and the girls paid him no mind; Marcy was chattering away and Anne was hanging onto every word with an awestruck expression.

“... So yeah, after I blew up the cult leader with those rocket-propelled boom shrooms, I grabbed the governor's daughter and we escaped the exploding island base on the back of a giant dragonfly,” Marcy said. She waited for a reply from Anne.

“... Damn, Mar-Mar,” Anne finally said. “You’re a beast.”

Marcy chuckled, putting her hands up behind her head. “Yeah. That was a crazy weekend _._ ”

“Good morning, ladies,” Olivia said, getting the girl’s attention.

“Morning, Lady Olivia,” Marcy said. “Thanks again for agreeing to help us with this whole dance thing.”

“No trouble, dear.” Olivia looked to Anne. “Now then, Lady Anne. Marcy has informed me that you’ll be her plus one to the Midsummer Ball?”

“That’s right!” Anne said just a little too quickly. “Just two friends, going to a dance together as _friends_.”

Olivia slowly raised an eyebrow. “Quite. Now, do you have _any_ experience with the art of ballroom dancing? Or partner dancing in general, for that matter?”

“Uh… I do two-player mode in Super Dance Fusion?”

“... I’ll take that as a no.” Olivia turned towards the whiteboard, picked up a marker and began to draw. “Fortunately for you both, the fundamentals of ballroom dancing are simple enough, and the three days we have to work with are more than enough to learn the basics. We’ll start with something simple: the box step.”

Olivia stepped back. The girls looked at the diagram she had drawn: a box with footprints at each corner, numbered arrows pointing between them.

“The box step is named after the box pattern formed by the dancer’s feet, as you can tell by the diagram,” Olivia explained. “It’s the most common step in the waltz, done on a basic one-two-three, four-five-six rhythm.”

She pointed to the footprints with her marker as she continued. “The leader starts by stepping forward with their left foot on one, then steps to the side with their right on two, then closes their left to their right foot on three, ending the first half in the opposite corner of the box from when they started. Then the leader steps back with their right foot on four, steps to the side with their left on five, and closes their right to their left foot on six, ending back where they started. On steps two and five, the leader should move their foot along the _sides_ of the box, not diagonally. Any questions?”

Olivia looked at her students. Marcy seemed to be following well enough, but Anne was looking at the step diagram like it was university-level calculus.

“Uh yeah,” Anne finally said, “what was that beginning, middle and end part again?”

Olivia gave Anne a flat stare. “... Perhaps a practical tutorial would be more to your style, Anne. Stand inside the box, if you would, feet together in one corner.”

Anne gulped, but did as she was told.

"Step forward with your left foot to the corner in front of you. Leave your right foot behind."

Anne took a step forward, standing still as a statue while she awaited further instructions.

"Now, bring your right leg up and to the side, placing it in the opposite corner from where you started. Be careful as you move your leg towards your partner, or you're likely to sweep their legs out from under them."

Anne nodded; Marcy did a good enough job of tripping on the dance floor by herself, and the last thing she needed was Anne knocking her down as well. She brought her right foot to the opposite corner of the square, awkwardly dragging it along the appropriate sides.

"Now bring your feet together in that corner." Anne brought her left foot over to meet her right, and Olivia nodded. "So far so good. Now, step backwards with your right foot - no no, your _right_ _foot_ Anne."

"Gah! Sorry," Anne said quickly, bringing her left foot back. She stepped backwards, this time with her right leg.

"That's better. Remember that you _alternate_ which foot is moving with each step. Now bring your left foot back to the start position…" Olivia nodded as Ann did so. "And finally close your feet."

Anne brought her right foot in, leaving her standing in the same spot she had started in. "Like that?"

"Excellent." Olivia nodded again. "Now I want you to repeat those steps. Don't worry about staying on rhythm; for now, just focus on making sure your feet go where they're supposed to."

"Got it," Anne said with a nod. She looked down at her feet. "Okay, so that's left foot forward… then bring my right around to the corner…"

Olivia and Marcy watched as Anne worked through the box step. Her movements were stiff and jerky, but she was indeed able to move in the proper order. If Marcy was being completely honest with herself, it was kind of nice having her and Anne be on the same level for once when it came to dancing.

Not to mention how sweet it was that Anne would go through all this trouble in the first place, all so she and Marcy could dance together at the Midsummer Ball. Sure, it was only because Anne was being a good friend, but Marcy couldn’t help picturing the two of them together on the dance floor. A spotlight on them with a live band playing a slow tune as they danced. Anne’s arms around Marcy’s waist, Marcy’s arms around Anne’s shoulders, their faces inching closer and closer until-

“Pay attention, Marcy,” Olivia said, snapping Marcy back to reality. Marcy blinked rapidly, a blush splashed across her cheeks and her heart hammering. Olivia was looking at her with an arched eyebrow. Anne - thankfully - was absorbed in practicing her box step. Marcy gave Olivia an embarrassed smile, and the Royal Advisor shrugged before continuing.

“Since your own lack of skill in the art of dance is well-established, Anne will act as the lead partner when you’re on the dance floor. As such, you will be following Anne’s steps and movements. It’s not enough to simply do what she’s doing, but in reverse; it’s essential that both partners be in sync. You must connect on an intimate level, and let your bodies move together as one.”

Anne and Marcy blushed heavily at Olivia’s choice of words, and both silently cursed their teenage hormones.

“Okay Anne, that’s enough,” Olivia said when Anne stepped back to her starting position. “Marcy, take Anne’s place and practice the box step, but in reverse. You will start by stepping back with your left foot, moving to the side with your right, and so on.”

“Okay,” Marcy said, nodding. Anne gave her a supportive smile as they walked past each other, and Marcy felt a surge of inspiration.

_Okay Marcy, Anne is doing all of this for you. Don’t let her down._

Standing beside Olivia, she and Anne watched as Marcy slowly worked through the box step in reverse. Her movements were even slower and clunkier than Anne’s, but her feet went where they were supposed to. She didn’t trip over her own feet, much to Anne’s surprise.

“You know in hindsight, we should’ve done this a _lot_ sooner,” Anne remarked to Olivia. “It’s just that I didn’t expect to be going to the ball with Marcy.” Anne’s face went flush. “N-not that I don’t _want_ to, I mean. I want to go and support her and everything, I just hadn’t, you know, considered it before and, um…”

“I understand your reasoning, dear,” Olivia said, still watching Marcy’s steps. She shot a quick glance in Anne’s direction, giving her a meaningful look. “After all, supporting one another is what _friends_ do, right?”

“Yup!” Anne said brightly, ignoring the pang of longing in her heart. “Yeah, that’s what _friends_ are for.”

With that, silence settled in the ballroom as the two focused their attention on Marcy’s practice.

“Okay, I think you’ve both got the basics down,” Olivia said after a few minutes. “Now it’s time for the main lesson. Anne, step into the square facing Marcy, if you would.” She watched as Anne did what she was told. “We’ll start with a two-hand hold, to protect your toes while you practice. Join hands, girls.”

Marcy hesitantly held her hands out, and Anne gently took them in her own. Both girls exchanged nervous smiles.

"Now, like you practiced. Step, corner, then feet together, followed by step, corner and feet together. Remember that you're the lead, Anne."

"Ready Mar-Mar?" Anne asked.

"No, but let's do it anyways." Marcy replied.

Anne nodded. She took a tentative step forward with her left foot, while Marcy stepped back with her right. Slowly Anne brought her right foot up and around, carefully to watch Marcy's leg as she did the same. Then with a third step, both girls found themselves in the corner of the box.

"So far so good," Olivia said with a nod. She could almost feel the tension radiating from the human girls as they slowly performed the final three steps, ending back where they started with nary a stumble or trip. "Excellent work, girls. Keep going; these steps should become second nature to you."

A silence settled over the ballroom as Anne and Marcy worked through the motions of the box step. From her spot by the whiteboard Olivia watched their progress, occasionally calling out advice.

"Watch your feet, Marcy.”

"Anne, keep your back straight."

After several minutes and dozens of repetitions, the girls' steps gradually became steadier and more self-assured, their movements syncing up. Anne and Marcy kept glancing between their feet and each other, their nervousness slowly melting away as they danced together.

"Hanging in there, Marcy?" Anne asked.

"Well I haven't fallen flat on my face so far, so I'd call that a good sign," Marcy replied with a chuckle. “How about you?”

“Doing okay.” Anne smiled and gave Marcy’s hands a gentle squeeze. “This is a lot different than the kind of dancing I’m used to. Not bad or anything, just different.”

“Yeah, you’re used to watching a flickering screen full of falling arrows when you dance, right?”

“Not _every_ time I dance.” Anne gave her a playful smirk. “And you’re one to talk about staring at screens. What was your record for a non-stop gaming session again? Ten hours?”

“Nine hours and thirty-six minutes,” Marcy corrected with a proud smirk. “Would’ve made it the full ten if those energy drinks hadn’t worn off.”

“Yeah, I remember that sleepover. When Sasha and I woke up you were still slumped against the bed with the controller in your lap.”

Marcy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and _someone_ wrote 'game over' on my forehead with a glitter pen while I was out.”

“Hey, Sasha insisted on a prank and _she_ wanted to dip your hand in warm water! I did you a favor!”

“That’s just a myth!”

Olivia smiled as Anne and Marcy chatted away. She may not have known the full context behind the anecdotes, but that wasn’t what was important. The girls had kept moving while talking, and as they relaxed their steps became even more fluid. Now they weren’t even looking at their feet anymore as they moved in a perfect box step.

"All right, ladies," Olivia said after several more minutes had passed. Anne and Marcy stopped, looking over to her. "I think we're ready for the next part of our lesson."

She kept talking as she began to look through the records Walter had brought her. "First step closer together. About one-to-two feet between you is ideal."

Anne and Marcy closed the gap between them. Though they were smiling on the outside, their thoughts were racing.

 _Okay, this is just a normal dance between friends,_ Anne thought. _Nothing more, nothing less._

 _Remember, you’re Lady Marcy,_ Marcy thought. _You are strong and confident._

"Anne, raise your left arm to about shoulder height, with your elbow bent to extend your hand upward at no more than a forty-five degree angle," Olivia said as she picked a single record from the stack. "Marcy, do the same with your right arm and take Anne’s hand in your own.” She slipped the record from its sleeve, examining her distorted reflection in the black vinyl. “Anne, place your right arm under Marcy’s armpit with your hand on her shoulder blade. Marcy, drape your left arm over Anne’s right and let your hand rest on her shoulder.”

Olivia glanced over her shoulder. Both girls had followed her instructions to the letter, and were now sheepishly smiling at each other as they locked eyes. Olivia’s mouth curled into a playful smirk.

“Now kiss deeply with tongue.”

Anne and Marcy froze, and for a fraction of a second Olivia thought they were actually going to do it.

Then their eyes widened and both girls jumped back, their faces bright red.

“ _Wh-what?!_ ” They asked in unison, looking to Olivia in shock and confusion. She gave them a dainty chuckle, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Just kidding, dearies,” she said in a sing-song voice, turning to place the record on the player. “A little joke to ease the tension, that’s all.”

“Uh, _yes!_ Joke!” Anne said loudly. “Ah ha ha-ha- _ha_! Funny joke!”

“Good one, Lady Olivia!” Marcy added with a too-wide smile. “Forget Royal Advisor, you should do stand-up!”

“How very kind of you, Lady Marcy,” Olivia said. She lifted the needle and with a flick of a switch on the side of the player, the record began to spin. “Okay, back to the lesson. Now that you’ve got the basics down, we’ll practice dancing to music. Back into position, please.”

Still heavily blushing, Anne and Marcy returned to their previous position; arms up and hands together, with Marcy’s other arm resting on Anne’s, which in turn wrapped up around Marcy’s torso. Both of them desperately tried to ignore how nice it felt to be close in such a manner.

Olivia looked at them and nodded. “Now Anne, as the leader you will use your right hand to guide Marcy’s movements. Be firm, but not forceful. Marcy, use your left hand to lightly grip Anne’s shoulder for balance, but try not to claw or squeeze too tightly. Ready?” The girls nodded. “And… go.”

She set the needle down, and the ballroom filled with the sounds of a slow orchestral score dominated by sweeping violins and gentle flutes. Anne and Marcy began the box step anew. Their feet were slow at first as they adjusted to their new positions, but within no time they were dancing to the rhythm of the music.

“Excellent work, girls,” Olivia said, smiling in approval. “Keep this up, and you’ll be ready for the Midsummer Ball in no time.”

“Uh, g-good to hear,” Anne said, still a little frazzled from Olivia’s ‘joke.’ “So Marcy… How's the research on the music box going? Any good news?”

Marcy gave a half-shrug. "Not much, I'm afraid. When the servants went through the archives they found a few books from the fourth century that _might_ have a hint as to what we're looking for, but we're still waiting on the scribes to translate them. Fingers crossed this actually leads somewhere. What about you? How'd the rest of your day go after I left yesterday?"

"Well, since I'm going with you to the Midsummer Ball, I went back to Fiona's to get myself a suit."

Marcy's eyes lit up. "Ooh, you don't say? I don't think I've seen you rock a tux before."

"Yeah, I tried it out for a party in Wartwood a while back." She adopted a playfully cocky smile. "Not to brag or anything, but I looked pretty damn good."

Marcy giggled, picturing Anne in a three-piece suit with her hair slicked back. "I can believe that. Anything else exciting happen?"

"Well later that day, Hop Pop took us all shopping for souvenirs. So I decided to find something for my mom…"

Anne proceeded to give Marcy the details on yesterday's shopping trip: Hop Pop’s mini-lecture on spending things with your own money (and how he later broke his own rule), Polly's unexpected haggling skills, Sprig finding a gift for Ivy...

"Aw, I didn't know Sprig had a girlfriend," Marcy cooed at that bit of information.

… Anne finding the handmade teapot that would've been the perfect gift for her mom, signing up for the shopping cart derby for a chance to win it… 

"Whoa whoa whoa, back up a sec," Marcy interrupted when Anne talked of her initial encounter with Priscilla. "You met Priscilla Paddock? As in Priscilla 'The Killa' Paddock??"

“You’ve heard of her?” Anne asked.

“‘Heard of her?’ She’s only one of the most famous warrior-mercenaries Newtopia has ever seen! They say she once snapped a heron’s neck with her bare hands!”

Anne pictured Priscilla in her head: towering over Anne, covered in battle scars, with biceps the size of Anne’s head. She nodded. “Yeah, I can believe that.”

“And you actually _beat her_ in battle?!”

“Well it was a demolition derby, not a straight-up fight. Plus I had Sprig’s help, and there were other circumstances…”

With that, Anne finished her story. She told Marcy about the derby itself, her and Sprig’s narrow victory against Priscilla and her daughter Pearl, and how she had given up the teapot after learning Priscilla’s mother was the artist who made it, which had gotten her a beautiful butterfly pin from a grateful Pearl.

“Typical Anne Boonchuy,” Marcy said, smiling at her friend’s generosity, “ready to give up something you worked hard for to someone you just met.”

“Aw come on, give me a _little_ more credit than that,” Anne said. She rolled her eyes, but smiled as she did. “That teapot had a lot of sentimental value to Priscilla. Plus her daughter gave me that handmade butterfly pin, which was really sweet.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. The way you think of others is one of the things I love about you.”

Anne thought back to her conversation with Hop Pop yesterday. His words of encouragement echoed in her head… but so did her doubts.

_Am I really doing this for her? Or am I just doing it so I don’t feel useless?_

“All right, that’s all the time we have for today girls,” Olivia said, startling Anne out of her thoughts. She and Marcy stopped dancing and looked over at Olivia, who reached over to stop the record player.

“What?” Marcy asked, fishing her phone out of her pocket. “I thought you said you could teach us for…” She beheld the time, and her eyes widened. “ _Oh_. Wow, we were practicing for that long?”

“Time flies when you’re learning,” Olivia said with a smile.

“So how’d we do?” Anne asked.

“I have to say I’m impressed. You both picked up the box step far faster than I expected. And now that you’ve got the basics down, I’ll start teaching you some more advanced moves tomorrow. In the meantime, I recommend you two spend some time together, get more comfortable around each other.”

Marcy rolled her eyes. “Olivia, come on. We’re best friends, we’re already comfortable being around each other.”

“Oh? Then why were you both so stiff when you first started dancing together?” Neither Anne nor Marcy had an answer to that. “Partner dancing requires _both_ parties to be comfortable with close contact for extended periods. It took a friendly conversation for you two to loosen up. You must work on maintaining that relaxed demeanor at all times to truly succeed at partner dancing.”

Olivia curtseyed to her students. “Now if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I must return to my duties as Royal Advisor. I’ll see you both back here tomorrow for further lessons.”

Olivia turned and departed, the sound of the shutting door echoing through the Verdant Chamber.

“Pssh, ‘be more comfortable around each other,’” Marcy repeated, crossing her arms. “We’re already as close as friends can be!” She cast a wary glance at Anne, drumming her fingers on her arms. “... Right?”

“Oh yeah, totally!” Anne said quickly, nodding. “We were only nervous ‘cause it was our first time dancing together like that, that’s all.”

“Yeah!” Marcy paused, rubbing the back of her head. “Though I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. I mean we’ve been apart for months and all that, we’ve still got a _lot_ of catching up to do. And I don’t have any Ranger duties today, so… Did uh, you have any plans?”

“Well remember how I said Sprig broke that staff he got for Ivy during the derby yesterday? I promised him that today I’d help him find a new gift.” Anne paused, a hopeful look on her face. “Did you, maybe, wanna come with us?”

Marcy’s smile was radiant. “I’d love to.”

* * *

“ _No more! Please! Mercy!_ ”

From her spot on top of the clothing store’s counter, Polly glared down at the cowering newt shopkeeper. “Had enough?” She snarled.

“Y-yes!” The shopkeep sobbed, his head bowed with his arms raised in desperate defense.

“Good. Now let’s try this again…”

Polly picked up the golden silk bow next to her. “ _How much_ for this ribbon?”

“O-o-one copper!”

“Thank you, my good man.” Polly smirked, flipping a single copper coin onto the merchant’s head. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Polly picked up the bow, leapt off the counter and hopped over to Sprig, who had been watching the whole exchange near the entrance to the store.

“And _that_ is how you haggle, big bro,” Polly said with a proud smile and she stripped off her old bow, tying the new one in its place.

Sprig was wide-eyed and pale. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed to say; “Um, yeah. That was… really something, Polly. But you _do_ know Hop Pop is letting us use the royal credit card to shop today, right?”

After what Hop Pop referred to as his “momentary lapse in judgement” in purchasing an expensive massage chair during yesterday’s outing, he decided it was only fair to let his grandkids likewise use King Andrias’s royal credit card for some shopping of their own while he went off to visit his old friend Sal’s restaurant.

Polly scoffed. “Yeah, if you wanna do things the _easy_ way. I’m telling you, haggling is the way to go!”

Sprig looked over at the shopkeeper, who was now rocking back and forth in a fetal position, and sobbing brokenly. He shook his head. “Yeah, think I’ll stick with the easy way.”

Together the Plantar siblings left the store, stepping out into the bustling Newtopian outdoor market. Crowds of shoppers hurried about, arms full of bags and boxes. The midafternoon sun shone in a sky dotted with lazily drifting clouds, and a gentle breeze carried the briney scent of the sea across the market.

"So what's the plan?" Polly asked as she and Sprig took a seat on a nearby bench situated between Hop Topic and Frog Claires'.

"Well I still need to find a new gift for Ivy," Sprig explained, "and Anne promised she'd help me shop after her dance lesson with Marcy."

"And how long was that supposed to be?"

Sprig looked over at a clock mounted on a nearby street lamp. "She should be here any minute now…"

" _Yo Sprig!_ "

The two looked up at the familiar sound of Anne's scratchy voice, just in time to see her maneuvering her way through the crowd towards their location. In one hand she held two black paper bags with the word "Fiona's" written on them in fancy cursive lettering. The other hand, to Sprig and Polly's surprise, held onto the hand of Marcy as she walked alongside Anne.

“Hey Anne!” Sprig said, excitedly hopping up off the bench, followed swiftly by Polly. “Hey Marcy!”

“Hey guys!” Anne said as she and Marcy approached the frogs. She smiled mischievously and held up both the bags and Marcy’s hand. “Sorry I’m late, had to make a quick stop before we came here. Check it out: got some sweet new outfits and my own personal servant for just three coppers! What a deal, huh?”

Marcy giggled and rolled her eyes as she pulled her hand away. “We had to pick up _our_ outfits for the Midsummer Ball.” 

She smiled at Sprig and Polly, feeling a tinge of awkwardness mixed with her usual social anxiety. Aside from their team-up against the barbari-ants, having lunch together and solving the puzzle-gram from the King, it felt like she had barely spent any time with Anne’s surrogate frog family. “Anne told me that she was going shopping with you guys today, so I figured I would tag along. I-if that’s okay, I mean.”

“The more the merrier!” Sprig replied.

“Great!” Marcy looked to Polly, ‘oohing’ as she leaned down. “I _love_ your bow! Is that new?”

“Thanks!” Polly said with a smug smile as she adjusted her ribbon. “And yes it is, bought it just before you guys got here. With my _haggling_ skills.”

“Oh yeah Anne was telling me about that during our dance lesson! Guess you’ve added proficiency to your bartering skill, huh?”

While Marcy and Polly chatted away, Anne turned to Sprig. “So what’s the plan, little man?” she asked.

“Well, since Hop Pop is letting me actually use the royal credit card today,” Sprig said, reaching into his vest pocket and pulling out a small blue business card, “I figured I’d check out some weapon shops to find a new gift for Ivy. So this morning I asked one of the clerks at the Hemisphere for some recommendations, and he gave me the address of a shop not far from here.”

Anne gave a thumbs-up. “Sounds great! Lead the way.”

And lead the way Sprig did, making his way through the crowd of shoppers deeper into the market, with Anne, Marcy and Polly at his side.

“So Sprig,” Marcy said in a teasing tone, “what’s this I’ve heard about needing to find a gift for your _girlfriend?_ ”

“Yeah, back in Wartwood,” Sprig said with a lovestruck grin. “Her name’s Ivy, Ivy Sundew. I want to get her something special to surprise her with when we go back home.”

“That's so sweet!” She leaned forward with interest. “So, what’s the story with you two? Did you go to school together? Were your families business rivals?” She gasped. “Wait, don’t tell me: you were late for something important one morning, had to run out of your house with a piece of toast dangling from your mouth and crashed right into her!”

Sprig and Polly looked at Marcy as though she’d started speaking another language. Anne just chuckled and shook her head.

“Marbles, you watch _way_ too much anime.”

“Uh… nothing that complicated,” Sprig finally said. “Ivy’s been my friend since we were both pollywogs. We grew up together, we laughed and played…” he shrugged. “And at some point, things just changed between us. I started to care about her as more than just a friend, found out she felt the same way, and things just kind of fell into place.”

Marcy clasped her hands, a twinkle in her eyes. “Aw, that’s adorable! And here I thought the whole ‘childhood friends falling in love’ trope was a cliche that only existed in books and movies and bad fanfiction written by talentless losers with too much free time on their hands.”

Anne looked to Marcy with a raised brow. “Uh, don’t _you_ write fanfiction?”

“My point still stands.”

Sprig shrugged. “What can I say? I guess as you grow up and start seeing a new perspective to things, it's normal for your feelings towards the people you know to grow and change.”

“Yup!” Polly added. She gave Anne a meaningful look. “What was it you were telling us, Anne? That two-thirds of all soulmates start out as childhood friends?”

Anne’s eyes widened. Marcy, Sprig and Polly all looked to her as she looked away in embarrassment, a hint of red spreading across her face. “Well I-I mean that was just from a magazine,” she stammered. “And we all know how they like to, you know, exaggerate and stuff…”

Her eyes darted around, and she quickly pointed up ahead. “Oh look! A weapons shop! This the place you were talking about, Sprig?”

The shop in question was nestled away in the far back corner of the Newtopian market. It stood sandwiched between two larger buildings, leaving the whole shop cloaked in dim shadows. A display window showed off a selection of well-polished weapons - swords, lances, axes, etc - laying atop a table covered in fancy red velvet. A thick plume of black smoke wafted out of a chimney at the rear of the building. Big, blocky black letters above the door identified the shop as “Slash ‘n’ Smash.” 

Sprig double-checked his business card and nodded. “Yup, this is the place!”

The interior of Slash ‘n’ Smash was poorly illuminated, with the only light coming from a few glow-bulb mushrooms on the wall and what little sunlight managed to stream in through the tiny window on the door. What the store lacked in lighting, it made up for in product: the walls were covered by glass display cases, each one packed full of weapons of various shapes and sizes: halbreads, rapiers, broadswords, warhammers, sabers, tridents and more. Anne, Marcy and the Plantar siblings beheld the collection with awe - Polly in particular.

“Okay, did I get run over during that derby yesterday?” She asked with a starry-eyed gaze. “Because I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven!”

“ _Be with you in just a second_ ,” a gravelly voice called out from the back section of the store.

Anne and Sprig looked at each other, surprised.

“Is that… ?” Anne started to ask.

A burly newt stepped through the doorway at the rear of the front room, stripping off a heavy leather apron and hanging it on a wall hook as she did so. She was a towering wall of muscle, her purple skin covered in bandages and scars. She blinked as she beheld her customers, and an expression of pleasant surprise graced her features.

“ _Priscilla!_ ” Anne and Sprig chorused, smiling wide. Behind them, Polly was looking at the new arrival with great interest, while Marcy stared with eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Well well well, if it ain’t Sprig and Anne!” Priscilla said with a hearty laugh. “Fancy running into you two here.”

“We could say the same thing,” Anne said. “You work here?”

“I _own_ here,” Priscilla corrected, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. “Slash ‘n’ Smash keeps the bills paid while I follow my true passions, like demolition derbies.” She looked past Anne and Sprig to her other two potential customers. “Who’re your friends over there?”

From the back of the pack, Marcy closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“This is my little sister, Polly,” Sprig said, motioning to said little sister.

“I love _everything_ about this place!” Polly said with a huge grin.

“And this is-” Anne began, but was cut off when Marcy stepped forward, standing up straight.

“I am Lady Marcy Wu,” she said in a measured voice, “Chief Ranger of the Newtopian Knight Guard.” She bowed reverently, a hand extended in greeting. “It’s an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Paddock.”

Priscilla smiled, gently taking Marcy’s hand in her own for a shake. “The pleasure’s all mine. So you’re the new Chief Ranger, huh? Been hearing a lot of things about you.”

“You have?” Marcy asked, surprised.

“I got a few buddies in the Rangers that I go drinking with, and they’re always talking about you. Hey, is it true you once took down an entire gang of bandits with one crossbow bolt?”

Marcy smirked proudly. “Yes-ish. Used it to trigger a rolling log trap.”

Priscilla barked out a laugh, clapping Marcy on the shoulder. “Classic!”

“Okay, my turn. Is it true _you_ once snapped a heron’s neck with your bare hands?”

Priscilla rolled her eyes, but kept smiling. “Is that old rumor still floating around? I mean yeah I did, but the boulder I chucked at it first did most of the work. I just finished it off. Not like I climbed onto its back and broke its neck mid-flight or anything like that.” 

She shrugged. “But that’s the nature of my line of work. Stories about you get told in bars and taverns, everyone starts adding their own little details to make things seem more dramatic, and before you know it you’ve got a reputation as an unstoppable killing machine. Not that I don’t _mind,_ but still.” She smirked. “You probably know what that’s like, Ms. ‘Took down a gang with one crossbow shot.’”

“Yup,” Marcy smiled and nodded. “Once the rumor mill starts up, there’s no stopping it.”

From her spot standing beside Sprig and Polly, Anne watched the conversation with a proud smile.

“So what brings you all to my neck of the woods?” Priscilla asked, looking up from Marcy.

“I’m looking for a weapon,” Sprig said, stepping forward. “It’s a gift for my girlfriend back home.”

Priscilla chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “Got a lady with a taste for danger, huh? Well you’ve come to the right place! So, what’s her fighting style like?”

“Ambush,” Sprig replied instantly. “Ivy’s got a talent for sneaking up on people, especially me. She could be covered in bells and I’d still never hear her coming, she’s _that_ good.”

“Or you’re just bad at detecting ambushes,” Polly said in a teasing tone.

“Heh, that too.”

“Stealth-based, huh?” Priscilla nodded. “And what’s her build? She your size?”

“No, I’d say she’s… uh, about the size as your daughter. Maybe a little shorter.” He shrugged. “Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

“No, that’s perfect,” Priscilla said as she stepped up to one of the display cases and pulled a key-ring from her pocket. “Choosing a weapon isn’t just about picking what will deal the most damage to your enemies. You also have to consider your particular fighting style, and what sized weapon you can wield most effectively. For example my little Pearl is a real brawler for sure, but she can’t exactly charge into a fight wielding a six-foot lance and expect to be effective with it.”

She opened up a case full of smaller melee weapons: daggers, handaxes and the like. “From your description, it sounds like Ivy would want what we in the business call a ‘holdout weapon.’ Something capable of doing damage, but small enough that it can be stowed away easily and won’t restrict your movement when you’re sneaking around. Go ahead: take a look.”

The four stepped forward, each of them carefully picking up a weapon to examine.

“Did you make all of these yourself?” Marcy asked as she held out a dagger, gently tracing her finger along the edge.

“Yup, I got a smith set up in the back,” Priscilla replied with a proud smile. “I may not have the same artistic eye as my mom, but I _know_ my weapons.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Ms. Paddock,” Marcy said. “The craftsmanship on these are remarkable.”

“Well that’s very kind of you, Marcy. And please, call me Priscilla.”

* * *

It was hours later when Anne, Marcy, Sprig and Polly bid Priscilla farewell, leaving Slash ‘n’ Smash with a trunk full of weapons. A collapsible silver staff for Ivy, a leather sling for Sprig, a shortsword for Anne, a crossbow and some daggers for Marcy, and a variety of weapons for Polly - who had to be reminded at several points _not_ to buy out Priscilla’s entire stock. While Sprig and Polly went off to hail a cab to get their purchases shipped off to the Hemisphere Hotel, Anne and Marcy took a seat on a bench by the waterfront. The sun was just starting its descent towards the western horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of red and orange.

“Well, that was an eventful day,” Marcy said, reclining on the bench.

“You said it,” Anne agreed. “It was nice though. Dancing, shopping… just like back home, huh?”

Marcy smiled at Anne. “Yeah. As cool as it is being Chief Ranger for an entire kingdom, it’s nice to just… hang out with friends, you know?”

Anne just smiled back. A silence fell over the girls as they basked in the Amphibian sunset.

“Hey, Anne?” Marcy said after several minutes. “Thanks again for doing all of this. Getting me ready for the Midsummer Ball, I mean. I know I haven’t been easy to work with these last few days, with you trying to teach me to dance and be sociable and all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Mar-Mar,” Anne said. “You did great today with Sprig and Polly, and _especially_ Priscilla.”

“Yeah, but I knew the Plantars through you, so it’s not like they were complete strangers. And at least with Priscilla we had plenty in common to talk about.”

Anne shook her head. “Ah, but you still approached her without being prompted. And you didn’t even need me to remind you to be confident.” 

She smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her gaze as she slouched forward with her elbows on her knees. “Probably won’t be long before you won’t need my help at all.”

Anne tensed up as Marcy suddenly leaned over, wrapping her arms around Anne in a tight hug.

“Anne, don’t say things like that,” Marcy admonished. “Even if I get better with people, I’m not just gonna abandon you. You’re my best friend, you’ve always been there for me. I’d never turn my back on you.” She chuckled, but there was no mirth behind it. “If anything, I was always worried that _you’d_ eventually get tired of _me_.”

“Of course not!” Anne replied instantly, returning the hug. “I’d never get sick of you, Marcy! Why would you even think that?”

Marcy hesitated. “Well… I _know_ you and Sasha have never been super into a lot of my really nerdy stuff. My fantasy books, my tabletop games…”

“So? Just because I’m not into them doesn’t mean I don’t care that _you_ like them. In fact, I love how passionate you are about them.”

Marcy pulled back, smiling shyly as she brushed some of her hair behind her ear. “You mean that?”

“Absolutely.” Anne looked Marcy right in the eyes, conviction in her voice as she continued. “And I love how smart you are, and how creative you are. And I love…”

Anne trailed off. Marcy stared at her, feeling her heart hammering in her ribcage. “... Yeah?”

“I…”

 _Don’t do it, you idiot!_ A voice in the back of Anne’s head whispered harshly. _Marcy is finally coming out of her shell! Don’t risk scaring her off because you can’t keep your stupid feelings in check!_

“I… love how you’re stepping outside of your comfort zone,” Anne finally said. “For a while I thought you were only doing it ‘cause I was pushing you, you know?”

“Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing,” Marcy shot back. “Without you to push me to try new things, I’d probably never change. I love how you’re there to look out for me no matter what. I love how you push me to be a better person. I love…”

Marcy trailed off. Anne stared at her, feeling her face grow warm. “... Yeah?”

“I…”

 _Don’t do it, you idiot!_ A voice in the back of Marcy’s head scolded. _Anne is obviously self-conscious about everything that’s happening! Don’t let your dumb feelings make things even more awkward!_

“I… just love how friendly and outgoing you are,” Marcy finally said. “I just hope I can be that confident one day too, you know?”

Anne smiled, patting Marcy on the shoulders. “We’ll get you there, Marcy. I promise.”

With that, the two friends sat back on the bench to watch the sunset, leaning close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was probably the hardest chapter I've written so far. This is what I get for writing a romance story focused on dancing when I myself don't know how to dance. All I can say is thank God for Youtube tutorials and Wikihow.


	6. Final Preparations

Marcy gasped as she splashed cold water onto her face. She looked up from the sink, staring at herself in the mirror of her personal bathroom at the Royal Castle. Her reflection stared back at her with a nervous gaze and pale face. She drummed her fingers against the porcelain counter, feeling her heart jackhammer in her chest.

The last few days had flown by in a blur. In the mornings, Anne and Marcy were tutored by Olivia in the art of partner dancing, gradually learning more advanced moves while Olivia informed them of the latest goings-on with the upper class. In the afternoons, Marcy and King Andrias performed further research into the mystery of the music box while Anne and the Plantar family experienced Newtopia for themselves.

And the nights had been for just Anne and Marcy. They had spent hours together at parks and restaurants and shops, giving Marcy more and more practice with holding conversations with people. It hadn't been easy; there had been many moments when Marcy just wanted to run back to the castle and lock herself in her room with her books and plants.

But having Anne there with her, offering words of encouragement and a kind smile when Marcy was at her most nervous… that had made it all worth it.

Now it was time for the ultimate test. The Midsummer Ball was tonight.

"Okay, just calm down Marcy," Marcy said to herself, taking slow and steady breaths. "You can do this. Just a few hours of dancing rubbing elbows with the nobility. This is what you've been training for, the final level. You can _do_ this." She looked her reflection right in the eyes. "Anne believes in you, so believe in yourself.”

Anne. Just the mention of her best friend’s name brought those feelings Marcy had been trying desperately to keep buried bubbling to the surface. If anything, all of the extra time they’d been spending together had only made them grow stronger. Every time Anne laughed, it was like music to Marcy’s ears. Her smile was like the first rays of sunlight after a storm.

And when they danced… when they moved together as one, holding hands with one of Anne’s arms wrapped around her, Marcy felt more at peace than she had in her life. In those moments, Marcy wanted nothing more than to lay bare all of her feelings and press her lips against Anne’s.

But she didn’t dare. If Anne didn’t feel the same way… If Marcy’s confession made things awkward between them, or even (Marcy shuddered at the thought) ruined their friendship completely, Marcy wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

But if Anne _did_ feel the same way... 

Marcy shook her head. No. There were too many variables, the risks too enormous. 

A knock at her bedroom door startled Marcy out of her contemplation.

“ _Pardon me, Miss Wu,_ ” came the muffled voice of Lady Olivia, “ _but it’s time to do your hair and makeup._ ”

“Be right there!” Marcy called out, shutting the water off.

Marcy hurried out of the bathroom. Outside of her window, the early evening sun was starting to dip westward, reflecting in the churning waters of the ocean. Marcy opened her bedroom door to find Olivia waiting for her, a black-haired newt maid at her side.

“Good evening, Lady Marcy,” Olivia said, the maid bowing politely.

“E-evening, Olivia,” Marcy said. He tried her hardest to sound relaxed, but her voice hitched as she felt some of her anxiety slip though. She looked to the maid. “And good evening to you… Henrietta, was it?”

“That’s me!” The maid replied. She held up a makeup case with a sheepish smile. “Sorry for the delay, I had to do some searching for makeup to use with a hyoo-man’s complexion.

Marcy waved her off as she turned around. “It’s all good. Come in, come in.”

Marcy took a seat at the foot of her bed next to where her dress was laid out, Henrietta and Olivia following behind. Henrietta started digging through her kit, laying out the various brushes, pencils, eyeshadow and other tools of the trade. Olivia stood off to the side, taking note of Marcy’s slumped posture and fidgeting with her cloak.

“Nervous?” she asked.

Marcy rolled her eyes. “No, I’m just peachy. On a completely unrelated note, is it too late for me to fake my own death, run off to some distant corner of the country and start a new life as a swamp-dwelling hermit?"

“Oh yes, I’m sure _no one_ would ever recognize Newtopia’s Chief Ranger and one of only three humans in all of Amphibia,” Olivia snarked right back. She put a hand on Marcy's shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. “But seriously, you have nothing to worry about. You and Anne have shown tremendous progress over these last few days. In fact, you’re the best dance students I’ve ever had.”

“And how many people have you taught to dance?”

“Just you two. Which technically still makes you the best students I’ve ever had.”

“... Hardy har har.” She looked over at the door. "Is uh, Anne here already?"

Olivia nodded. "King Andrias is keeping her and the Plantar family company in the main foyer. Once we finish here, we'll send you two on your way." Again, a comforting smile. “I’m sure you’ll both have a wonderful time.”

Marcy gulped, but nodded.

"All set, Miss Wu," Henrietta said, holding up an eyeliner pencil. "Shall we begin?"

"Go ahead," Marcy said, turning her head towards Henrietta. She gently cupped Marcy's chin and leaned in to begin applying the eyeliner. As she did, Marcy cast a glance to Olivia. "While we’re waiting, think you can quiz me on the nobility gossip? Studying stuff always helps me calm down.”

“As you wish,” Olivia said with a nod. “If you encounter Lord Bitterroot or Lady Honeydew, you should…”

“Congratulate them on their engagement,” Marcy said immediately, “but quickly change the topic because it’s just a political marriage and they actually hate each other.”

“Correct. And if you speak to Baron Silverstien, you should… ?”

“Congratulate him on his son graduating top his class from Newtopia University. Which would also be perfect for opening up more avenues of conversation.”

“Very good. What about Count von Coldwater?”

Marcy racked her brain as Henrietta switched to the other eye. “Um… Praise him for his successful charity gala for underprivileged amphibians?”

“... And?”

“Uh… Oh! And don’t mention Baron Silverstien in his presence, because Coldwater hates his guts. And if Coldwater starts ranting about him, just nod and agree with him and let him vent.”

“Excellent, Miss Wu.”

Marcy exhaled deeply, and silently hoped that Anne was having an easier time than she was right now.

* * *

 _“Die die die just die already!_ ”

Sprig grit his teeth as his fingers frantically worked the controls of Marcy’s Swap, one eye twitching as he stared at the flickering screen. The young frog sat on King Andrias’ knee with his sister at his side, with Andrias himself seated at the base of the stairs in the castle’s main foyer. Polly and Andrias leaned in close, intently watching Sprig’s progress.

“I’m so close I just know it,” Sprig said through gritted teeth.

“Use the super move!” Polly said, pointing.

“I can’t! I still need one more of those pink parry things!”

“I am _so_ jealous,” King Andrias said with a sigh. “I can’t play these types of games with my massive fingers.”

“Come on… come on…”

“ _Knockout!_ ” A deep voice announced from the Swap’s speakers.

“Yes!” Sprig cheered, throwing his arms up in celebration. Polly and Andrias did likewise, congratulating Sprig as he pointed at the screen with a manic grin. “In your face, Hilda Berg! You just got lucky those first fourteen times!”

From his chair some distance away, Hop Pop rolled his eyes at the display.

“Ah kids these days and their fancy do-dads and whatchamacallits,” he said with a shake of the head. He turned to the chair next to him. “How you holding up, Anne?”

Anne sat beside Hop Pop, back rigid as she drummed her fingers on her thighs. “Oh I’m good,” she said with faux-flippancy. “Just waiting to, you know, take my socially awkward friend to one of the fanciest social events in all of Newtopia. No biggie.”

“You’re right, it _is_ no biggie,” Hop Pop said with a reassuring smile. “With all the work you and Marcy have been doing these last few days, I’m sure you’ll both be the talk of ball!”

Anne leaned back, letting Hop Pop’s words sink in as she thought over the last few days. The mornings had been spent with Lady Olivia, who had been teaching Anne and Marcy more advanced dance moves. Then in the evenings, the two girls had gone out to explore the city and give Marcy more practice with being sociable. It gradually became easier and easier for her to step into her Lady Marcy persona and hold extended conversations with strangers. Anne had watched her social anxiety evaporate like a puddle in the sun; Marcy was maintaining eye contact, stammering less, and barely fidgeted with her cloak anymore. It made Anne’s heart swell with pride, seeing how far Marcy had come in just a short time.

Of course there had been a few times when she’d faltered and started getting nervous. But when that had happened Anne was always ready to step up. Sometimes she’d redirected the conversations, but other times all Anne had to do was smile and nod when Marcy looked her way. Her words from days before echoed in Anne’s brain.

_You give me confidence that I’d never have on my own…_

Now it was time for the Midsummer Ball, the moment they’d been training for. Anne steadied her nerves. Marcy would be looking to her for support now more than ever; she couldn’t afford to let any of her own nervousness show.

“You’re right, Hop Pop,” Anne said, curling one hand into a fist and smacking her open palm. “It’s time for all of our hard work to pay off. Those stuffy nobles aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em!”

“That’s the spirit!” Hop Pop said, patting Anne on the back. He raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. “Just two _friends_ going to a dance together, right?”

Anne ignored the flutter in her chest, giving Hop Pop a stern glance. “That’s right. _Just friends_ , nothing more.”

Hop Pop just chuckled. “Whatever you say, kiddo.”

Before Anne could reply she heard a door open above, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. Everyone in the foyer looked up as Lady Olivia stepped out from the upstairs hallway, looking out over the railing to the foyer below. Anne stood up, smoothing out her outfit.

“Your Majesty, Lady Anne, Plantar family,” she said, nodding in turn to everyone, “may I present to you Lady Marcy Wu.”

She stepped aside, and Marcy stepped out of the shadows.

Anne’s heart skipped a beat.

Marcy wore her dress from Fiona’s: the emerald number with viridian frills and jade sequins, with a blue hibiscus flower in her hair and a pair of inch-high black pumps completing the ensemble. Her shimmering black hair framed her face, a dash of eyeliner made her hazel eyes pop, and her lips shined with a gentle touch of gloss. Her appearance combined with her body language - back straight, head held high, measured steps - gave her an air of dignified beauty that Anne had never seen from Marcy before.

Until she almost tripped, grabbing a startled Olivia for support. That was _much_ more familiar.

“Sorry!” Marcy said sheepishly as she steadied herself. “Still getting used to these heels.” 

She turned to wave at everyone, smiling brightly. “What’s up, everybody! Ready to get this show on the-”

Marcy’s eyes fell on Anne, and her words caught in her throat. Anne wore a three-piece suit, a white jacket and pants with a light blue vest and black bow tie, a pair (!) of brown dress shoes rounding things out. Her hair was slick and stylized, picked free of pesky twigs and leaves, and she carried herself with an aura of natural confidence.

Marcy has never seen Anne look this - dare she think it? _Handsome_ before.

“Wow, Anne,” Marcy finally said. “You weren’t kidding when you said you knew how to rock a suit!”

Anne adopted a cocky smile and spread her arms. “Told you I looked damn good!”

Marcy descended the stairs, hanging onto the railing for support with Olivia following close behind. Andrias, Sprig and Polly all stepped out of her way to allow her to pass.

“You look wonderful too, Mar-Mar,” Anne said as she walked up to Marcy with Hop Pop on her tail.

“Yeah you do!” Polly said. “You’re gonna blow everyone away at that dance!”

“Ooh! You should totally get a picture of you guys before you head off,” Sprig said. Anne winked and clicked her tongue at him.

“You read my mind, little man,” she said. She produced her phone from her pocket and held it out towards a surprised Hop Pop. “Why don’t you do the honors, HP? You remember how I showed you, right?”

“Uh… yeah! Of course I do!” Hop Pop said with a nervous smile as he accepted the phone. He peered into the screen, furrowing his brow. “Let’s see… uh, first I tap… this thing?” He tapped the screen, then nodded. “Yeah, there we go.” He held it up towards the girls, thumb in position to tap again. “Then we just aim it. And… tap?”

A flash came from the phone’s front camera, and Hop Pop stumbled back with dilated pupils. 

“ _Aah!_ My eyes!” He cried, tossing the phone in the air in reflex. Anne’s reflexes were just as fast, and she caught her phone with an awkward chuckle.

“Oh second thought, let’s just do a selfie,” she said. She wrapped an arm around Marcy’s waist and pulled her close as she held the phone up at an angle. “Smile!”

Marcy was more than happy to, resting her head on Anne’s shoulder as she snapped a picture.

Andrias laughed mirthfully, standing over the girls with his hands on his hips. “I’m sure you girls will have a wonderful time!” He said. “And I have a surprise for you both. I’ve taken the liberty of hiring a carriage to take you to and from the ball, my treat!”

“Thanks, Your Majesty,” Anne said with a bow. She looked to Marcy, holding an arm out. “Well, guess this is it. You ready to go, Marcy?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Marcy said. She linked her arm with Anne’s. “Let’s hit the road.”

With that the two girls walked off towards the front doors of the castle, held open by a pair of guards. They waved goodbye to everyone present in the foyer one last time, who waved back.

“Thanks again for all your help, everyone!” Marcy said.

“Don’t wait up!” Anne added.

“Have fun you two!” Sprig said as the castle doors swung shut, the heavy _thud_ echoing through the chamber.

“I’m so happy for them,” Andrias said with a wistful smile. “They really do make a cute couple, don’t they?”

“Oh, they’re not together, Your Majesty,” Olivia said.

Andrias blinked. “Wha… They’re not? But the way they were looking at each other…”

“Yes, Marcy does have feelings for Anne,” Olivia explained, “but she’s in denial that Anne would ever feel the same way.”

“Same with Anne towards Marcy,” Hop Pop added.

“And now they’re just going to the ball as ‘friends,’” Sprig said, air-quoting the word _friends_.

“Oh, it’s one of _those_ situations then.” Andrias chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, the follies of youth.”

A silence settled over the foyer.

“So how much you wanna bet someone’s gonna spill their feelings at some point tonight?” Polly asked. “Ten coppers says Marcy makes the first move during the ball.”

“No way, it’s gotta be Anne who confesses first,” Sprig said. “And with how much she loves spectacles at parties, I bet it’ll be during the ball.”

“No no no, Anne’s matured a lot since then,” Hop Pop said. “She’ll probably confess on the ride over there.”

“I think you’re all selling Marcy short,” Andrias added. “I think she’ll confess first during the carriage ride.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Seriously, people? You do realize you’re speculating on the love lives of _children,_ right?” She paused. “Fifteen coppers says Marcy confesses first in a bold declaration during a dance.”

* * *

To say the carriage Andrias had rented for Anne and Marcy was luxurious would be an understatement. The cabin was big enough for at least a dozen people, and the interior was lined with gorgeous red velvet. A skylight in the roof offered a majestic view of the darkening night sky, the first evening stars twinkling like diamonds.

“It’s nothing like back home,” Marcy said, leaning back in her seat with Anne beside her, staring up at the sky.

“Hmm?” Anne asked.

“The stars, I mean,” Marcy explained. “When we first got here, I thought that maybe we’d been transported to some distant planet or something. I spent so many nights studying the stars, trying to see if I could spot any familiar constellations from Earth, just at different angles or something. But nope; it’s all completely different.”

She chuckled, fidgeting with the flower in her hair. “Sorry, I-I’m rambling, aren’t I? Guess I’m still a little nervous about… all of this.”

“It’s cool, Mar-Mar,” Anne said, sitting up. She smiled as she reached into her pocket, pulling out a small rectangular box. “Maybe this will help calm your nerves. I got you a little something on my way to the castle.”

“A present?” Marcy blinked, a surprised smile coming to her face. “Aw, you shouldn’t have!”

Anne opened the box, and Marcy stopped short as she was greeted by the sight of an elegant butterfly necklace. Tiny blue sapphires dotted the intricate wings of the butterfly, which was held up by a thin silver chain. Marcy gasped, a hand over her mouth as she beheld her gift with wide eyes. A blush settled across her cheeks.

“Anne… it’s beautiful! You… you didn’t have to get me something like this.”

“I know I didn’t _have_ to,” Anne said, gently removing the necklace and holding it up by the chain, “I wanted to. May I?”

Still blushing heavily, Marcy turned around and reached up to move her hair out of the way. Anne carefully draped the necklace up over Marcy’s head, securing the clasp behind her neck. She turned back around, the silver butterfly resting between her collarbones.

“It looks great on you, Marcy,” Anne said.

“Thank you Anne,” Marcy said. “I mean it though, you didn’t have to go the extra mile like that. Especially since you’ve already done so much for me.”

“Yeah, well…” Anne trailed off, self-consciously rubbing her arm. “I had a feeling you’d still be nervous about tonight, and figured that maybe a gift would help but your mind at ease. Then I found that necklace, and thought it would be a good look for you.” Anne blushed. “A-and I was right. About how it looks good, I mean.”

Marcy reached up to trace a finger across her new necklace. She frowned slightly. “I… I didn’t even think to get you a gift.”

Anne put her hands on Marcy’s shoulders. “Don’t even worry about that, Marcy. The fact that you’ve been willing to step outside of your comfort zone and try all of this in the first place is more than enough.”

Marcy said nothing. She shared a warm smile with Anne as they looked deep into each other’s eyes.

Until the carriage came to a stop, and a knock came from the privacy window at the front of the cab.

“ _We’ve arrived at your destination, ladies_ ,” came the voice of the driver.

Anne and Marcy nodded at each other, sharing looks of determination as they sat up.

The carriage had come to a stop at the end of a long driveway dotted with radiant glow-bulb mushrooms. As they stepped out of the carriage, Anne and Marcy looked up at the Midsummer Ball’s venue: a sprawling, opulent mansion with pearl-colored walls. Carved above the front door was the design of a tree surrounded by a circle of flowering vines. Through the ornate windows, the girls could see the shadowed forms of dozens of newts moving around inside.

Anne whistled. “Nice digs.”

“Well this whole thing _is_ being hosted by one of the richest families in Newtopia,” Marcy said.

“I can see that.” Anne looked to Marcy, holding her arm out. “You ready?”

Marcy nodded, linking her arm with Anne’s. “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this week's chapter is a bit shorter than usual. I had planned on actually getting us to the Midsummer Ball finally, but a combination of mild writer's block and personal circumstances that left me with less time for writing in general dictated a slight change of plans. Hope the Anne/Marcy fluff makes up for it, at least.


	7. The Midsummer Ball

The interior of the Sycamore Mansion was just as splendid and opulent as its exterior. The main foyer was massive, dominated by a grand twisting staircase. Nearly the entire ceiling was taken up by a massive skylight, offering a perfect view of the stars twinkling in the night sky. Angled trenches climbed up the white marble walls, full of plants in a variety of shapes, sizes and colors. Intricately carved archways opened up to hallways leading deeper into the mansion.

“Okay, this is pretty badass,” Anne said. She and Marcy stood in the center of the foyer as a pair of servants closed the doors behind them. “These newts have a literal jungle in their house.”

“Well when you’re as rich as the Sycamores, you can afford to do crazy stuff like this,” Marcy said. “Oh wait, my mistake. When you’re rich this kind of stuff isn’t crazy, it’s ‘eccentric.’”

“Ah, you must be Lady Marcy.”

The girls looked up as a blond newt in a black suit approach, a look of carefully practiced stoicism that they had long since come to associate with butlers and other servants. Marcy closed her eyes and took a deep breath; it was Lady Marcy who opened them.

“Indeed I am,” she said, bowing politely. Anne followed suit, albeit slower. “Lady Marcy Wu, Chief Ranger of the Newtopian Knight Guard. This is my plus one, Lady Anne Boonchuy.”

“Greetings,” the butler said, bowing in return. “On behalf of the Sycamore family, thank you for gracing us with your presence. Oh, this is just a formality at this point, but I _will_ need to see your invitation.”

“Got it right here, my good man,” Anne said. From her pocket she produced the embroidered invitation that had come with Marcy’s letter a week ago. The butler accepted the parchment, examined it closely, then nodded.

“Very good.” He pocketed the invitation. “If you would be so kind as to follow me, I will escort you to the grand ballroom.”

The butler turned on his heels and began walking down one of the hallways, Marcy and Anne close behind.

“How am I doing so far?” Marcy whispered to Anne.

“Doing great,” Anne replied with a smile and a thumbs-up. “Just remember, Lady Marcy is strong and confident. Lady Marcy always knows what to say, and doesn’t let fear hold her back.”

“Got it,” Marcy said. She repeated that mantra to herself in her head. _Lady Marcy is strong and confident_.

The hallway opened up into an enormous ballroom. A huge golden chandelier hung from the high ceiling, its arms intricately shaped to resemble flowering vines. A large portion of the room was dedicated to a dance floor, dozens of couples dressing to music from a live band performing on a stage set up in the far corner. Other newts stood around tables piled high with hors d’oeuvres, laughing and chatting. Stoic servants moved to and fro, keeping the food and drink flowing. The newts all wore extravagant suits and dresses, the kind of clothing that broadcast the wealth and status of anyone that wore it.

“Announcing the arrival of Lady Marcy Wu,” the butler announced as he, Anne and Marcy entered the chamber, “Chief Ranger of the Newtopian Knight Guard, and her guest, Lady Anne Boonchuy.”

A few dozen newts turned to look in Anne and Marcy’s direction at the announcement. Marcy felt an instinctive surge of panic at the sudden attention, but she took another deep breath and fought back against her natural social anxiety.

 _Lady Marcy is strong and confident_.

“Shall we mingle, Lady Anne?” Marcy asked her companion.

“I would be delighted, Lady Marcy,” Anne replied with a proud smile.

The two of them walked over to where a fairly-large group of party-goers had congregated. The crowd parted as an elderly newt in a grey suit stepped forward. Marcy and Anne recognized his teal skin, thick glasses, bushy white beard and gold-tipped cane from the description Lady Olivia had given them.

"Lady Marcy, Lady Anne!" He said with a withered voice but an exuberant smile. "Welcome to my humble home!"

"Good evening to you, sir," Marcy said as she and Anne bowed. "You must be Lord Sycamore. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

“The pleasure is all mine,” Sycamore replied. “It’s an honor to have the Chief Ranger herself grace us with her presence. May I just say it’s quite impressive how much you’ve accomplished in the short time you’ve been in Newtopia.”

“Oh it’s not much, really,” Marcy said with a wave of her hand and a coy smile. “Just some missions out in the Amphibian wilderness and a few improvements to the city’s infrastructure. Nothing major.”

“Ah, like that bridge over in District Seven,” Sycamore noted with a smirk. “It was about time someone fixed that crumbling thing up. That blasted thing was old when _I_ was just a wee lad!”

That earned a round of laughter from the rest of the assembled newts. It was an airy “Oh-hohoho” type of laugh, the kind Marcy used in her _Creatures and Caverns_ games when voicing pompous NPCs.

"And what of you, Lady… Anne, was it?" Sycamore asked, turning his attention to Anne. "I hear you arrived in Newtopia a little over a week ago. What have you been up to in your time in Amphibia?"

“I wound up in a small farming community called Wartwood,” Anne said. “I had to wait a few months for the path in and out of the valley to clear before I could make it to Newtopia, so I just spent that time… living the simple life with my adoptive family, I guess you could say.”

“Oh that must have been quite the ordeal,” a newt woman with platinum blond hair said, a hand raised to her mouth in shock. “I can’t imagine having to spend so much time with the _peasants_. You poor thing.”

Anne kept smiling, but Marcy could feel her tense up at the noblewoman’s “compassion.” Some of Olivia’s advice on socializing with the nobility echoed in her head.

_Should a conversation start to turn sour, redirect it with a question about whomever you’re speaking with. If there’s one thing the nobility like to talk about, it’s themselves._

“So, Lord Sycamore!” Marcy said loudly. “I’m noticing a theme with the decor. Are you something of a nature lover?”

“You could say that,” Sycamore said. “My great-great-grandfather was a botanist. He traveled to the farthest corners of Amphibia to study flora and discover new types of plant life. Then he used what he learned to develop new medicine and cosmetics, which became the foundation of the Sycamore family fortune.”

“You don’t say?” Marcy smiled. She knew from previous research into the Newtopian nobility that the Sycamores had gotten their start in pharmaceuticals, but it was another thing to hear about such history from a direct source. “I’ve been studying the local plant life myself. Were those western creep vines I saw growing out in the foyer?”

“Got it in one!” Sycamore chuckled. “You’ve got quite the eye for foliage, Lady Marcy.”

Marcy smirked. “What can I say? When a Ranger is out in the wilderness, knowing your plants can mean the difference between life and death.”

Sycamore nodded sagely, his guests hanging onto every word of the conversation. Marcy couldn’t help noticing more and more newts gathering around, obviously eager to get a closer look at the ball’s human guests. Some of Anne’s advice from the last few days of socializing flashed behind her eyes.

_Don’t let conversations center around you for too long. Ask about the other person: show them you’re interested._

“Are you also interested in the botanical sciences, Lord Sycamore?” Marcy asked. Sycamore scoffed, but smiled.

“I wish,” he said. “I know how to garden, and that’s about it. My strength has always been in engineering and architectural design. In fact when we had the manor remodeled some years ago, I was the one who personally designed the foyer.”

“No kidding?” Anne asked, impressed. “Well it looks fantastic. Very cool how you have your own garden built into the walls.”

“I was actually wondering about that,” Marcy said. “I noticed the trenches in the foyer all sat at an angle, why is that?”

“Oh that’s part of a special watering system of my own design,” Sycamore said proudly. “Far more practical and cost-effective than having the staff water the plants by hand.”

“Outstanding!” Marcy’s eyes lit up at the prospect of learning something new. “You simply must tell me how you accomplished that.”

“I’d be delighted! You see, it’s all about letting gravity do most of the work for you…”

* * *

“... So I'm there in the temple ruins plotting my next move when this hulking frog comes charging in. He says that I've been a thorn in the bandits’ side for long enough, and the boss has sent his right hand to take care of me. To which I reply; 'Wait, his right hand comes off?'"

The newts around Marcy laughed heartily. She leaned back against the refreshments table, idly swirling some bug juice around in a glass as she waited for silence.

“And like I said, this guy was _big_. Not only that, but he was armed to the teeth and madder than a widowed lovebird. I won’t lie, he would’ve given me trouble in a straight fight.” Marcy smirked. “Which is exactly why I rigged snare traps at every entrance to the temple. The scumbag took two steps and he was swinging upside-down by his feet before he knew what hit him.”

She paused for dramatic effect, taking a sip of her drink. The crowd of party-goers waited with baited breath, enraptured.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," said a portly green newt in a powder-blue suit. "What happened next?"

“I had a friendly little chat with my guest,” Marcy said. “He wasn’t willing to talk at first, but a few hours of hanging upside-down changed his tune. He gave me the number of remaining bandits, the layout of the camp, and the guard’s patrol schedule. Then I just called in my Ranger squad, we hit ‘em at the break of dawn the next morning, and captured them all with almost no resistance. It was almost disappointing how anticlimactic it was.”

She held her almost-empty glass out to the side, and a servant hurried over to immediately refill it.

“Needless to say, those bandits won’t be causing any more trouble,” Marcy finished. She smirked again, raising her glass. “At least not for ten-to-fifteen years with good behavior.”

The crowd voiced their approval, some raising their own glasses while others clapped politely. Marcy beamed with pride, thinking again of her mantra.

 _Lady Marcy is strong and confident_.

From the other end of the refreshments table past the crowd, Anne leaned against the wall with her own glass of juice. The ambient sounds of the party danced in the air: muted conversations, clinking glasses and the orchestra playing a gentle tune. Marcy threw a quick glance Anne’s way. Anne smiled and raised her glass. Marcy smiled right back.

Marcy Wu, the life of the party. Such a thing would have been laughably impossible to Anne just a few short months ago. As much as Anne loved Marcy, she knew being sociable was by far her greatest weakness. Yet here she was, commanding the attention of dozens of guests at a high-class soiree. Her posture was perfect, her voice free of cracks and stammers. She was even looking others in the eye.

Marcy had leveled up. And she’d done so with Anne’s help.

"She really is something, isn't she?"

Anne jumped slightly. She turned to see Lord Sycamore smiling at her, a martini glass in one withered hand. He nodded towards Marcy, who had launched into another tale of her Ranger exploits.

"Yeah, Marcy is amazing," Anne said, nodding and smiling. "When I first got to Newtopia, I couldn't believe she had become this great warrior."

Sycamore chuckled. "That's putting it lightly. Rising through the ranks of the Newtopian Knights at such a rate is unprecedented for _anyone_ , let alone a visitor from another world.”

Anne nodded. She thought back to her first time in Amphibia, barely surviving in this strange and hostile world and her… less-than-positive first interactions with the residents of Wartwood.

“When Marcy first arrived here,” she said, “what was that like exactly? With how everyone reacted to her, I mean.”

Sycamore shrugged. “Well it was a shock at first, having some bizarre creature pop up out of nowhere in the middle of Newtopia. I know the King had her brought to the castle almost immediately, but I can’t tell you exactly what transpired between them.”

Anne made a mental note to ask Marcy about that at some point.

“And there was even more confusion when word got around that she had joined the Rangers and was running missions on behalf of the King himself. No one was sure _what_ to make of Marcy at that point.” He smiled. “But she’s long since proven herself to be an invaluable asset to Newtopia. We’re very lucky to have her.”

He paused to sip his drink. “What was she like back in your own world, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Super smart,” Anne said instantly. “One of the smartest kids in school, and really sweet. But she could also be super clumsy and oblivious. That’s why it was such a shock to me at first to see how much she had changed when I first got here.”

They looked back over to Marcy. They couldn’t hear what she was saying now, but the crowd was leaning forward and listening intently. Marcy finished speaking with a flourish and huge grin, and everyone around her burst out laughing.

“But you know what?” Anne smiled softly. “Change doesn’t have to be a bad thing, you know?”

Sycamore nodded. “Indeed. I was also curious about something else-”

“Excuse me, Lord Sycamore.”

The two looked up as a butler approached. He leaned in close and whispered something that Anne couldn’t hear to Sycamore, who furrowed his brow.

“Huh? … Mm-hmm… I see…”

He nodded to the butler, then bowed his head towards Anne. “My apologies Lady Anne, but it seems something has some up that requires my attention. I must take my leave for the moment.”

“I understand,” Anne nodded. “It was a pleasure speaking to you, Lord Sycamore.”

“And to you as well.”

Sycamore walked off with the butler. As they did, Anne heard the elderly newt mutter; “Hopefully this doesn’t take too long. Gnat Cole just arrived, and I don’t want to miss too much of his performance.”

Less than a minute passed before Marcy bid farewell to the guests she’d been entertaining. The crowd broke off into several smaller groups as Marcy made her way over to Anne, smiling sheepishly.

“Hey Anna-Banana,” she said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to just abandon you like that. Someone asked what it was like being a Ranger and I… guess I kind of got carried away with my stories.”

“That’s a-okay, it’s all good,” Anne said. “You looked like you were doing just fine on your own, so I figured I shouldn’t interfere.”

Marcy nodded slowly. “Yeah… I guess I did. I’ve been doing pretty damn good so far, haven’t I?”

Anne smiled. “You sure have, _Lady Marcy_. I’m proud of you, girl.”

Marcy’s smile was radiant. 

She looked over to the dance floor, then smirked at Anne. “You know, we haven’t gotten a chance to dance yet. It’d be a shame to let our lessons go to waste, wouldn’t you say?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Anne said. She set her drink down and extended an open hand towards Marcy. “May I have this dance, m’lady?”

Marcy set her own drink aside and took Anne’s hand. “It would be my pleasure, my dear!”

Hand-in-hand the girls made their way onto the dance floor, where several other couples were milling about as they waited for the band to start the next set. Up on the stage, a svelte green axolotl with short, slick black hair stepped up to the pianist. After a few words, the frog at the piano nodded and got up off the bench, allowing the axolotl to take his place.

“How are we doing, folks?” He asked the audience with a soft smile. His voice was smooth and mellow. “I am Gnat 'King' Cole, your special musical guest for tonight. It’s a pleasure to be here at the Midsummer Ball, and I hope your evening so far has been just lovely.”

The crowd politely applauded. As Cole played a short, merry tune on the piano, Anne and Marcy assumed their dance position: hands linked, Anne’s arm around Marcy’s torso with Marcy’s arm draped over Anne’s shoulder.

“For my first number, I’d like to play a song for all the couples out there,” Cole said. “A little ditty about what it’s like being with that special someone who thinks you’re just… unforgettable.”

Anne and Marcy’s eyes widened. They looked to each other, blushing slightly, but made no move to try and separate.

“Uh, did you still want to… ?” Anne asked, and trailed off.

“Yeah,” Marcy said quickly, nodding. “Yeah it’s fine. This is just a dance between friends.”

“Right. Just friends. Yeah.”

Around them, other couples came together, holding each other closely. Onstage, Cole began playing a [ slow tune ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDN5rG3wLa4) on the piano. He began to sing as the rest of the band joined in.

“ _Unforgettable, that’s what you are_ ,” he crooned, fingers dancing across the keys. “ _Unforgettable, though near or far._ ”

Anne and Marcy began with a simple box step, just like they had practice hundreds of times over the last few days. Their movements were perfectly in sync, their steps careful and precise.

“ _Like a song of love that clings to me… How the thought of you does things to me… Never before has someone been more…”_

Keeping the same rhythm, the girls transitioned to more advanced moves. They took several steps, slowly rotating as they did so.

“ _Unforgettable in every way… And forever more that’s how you’ll stay.”_

Releasing their right arms while keeping their left hands linked and raised, Marcy stepped back and spun in place, the sequins on her dress sparkling as she twirled. They stepped again as they faced one another, right arms extended out as Anne’s feet skillfully crossed beneath her.

“ _That’s why darling, it’s incredible… that someone so unforgettable... thinks I’m unforgettable too.”_

There was a pause in the singing as Cole played a jaunty solo on the ebony and ivory. The lilting melody danced in the air as Anne and Marcy reconnected, transitioning back to simpler moves. Both girls smiled warmly, gazing into each other’s eyes, moving together as one.

Wordlessly, Marcy let go of Anne’s hand and put her arm up over Anne’s shoulder. Anne did likewise, letting her now-free arm join the other in wrapping around her friend.

Both of Anne’s hands drifted lower to Marcy’s waist, gently pulling her closer as they danced. Marcy didn’t move to correct her, linking her hands together behind Anne’s neck.

“ _Unforgettable in every way,”_ Cole began singing again. “ _And forever more that’s how you’ll stay…”_

Marcy could feel her pulse quicken as she and Anne danced together closer than they’d ever had before. Their faces just inches apart.

“ _That’s why darling, it’s incredible…”_

Marcy thought to herself, _Lady Marcy is strong. Lady Marcy is confident_.

“ _That someone so unforgettable…_ ”

_Lady Marcy doesn’t let fear hold her back!_

“ _Thinks that I’m unforgettable too… !_ ”

As the music swelled to a crescendo, Marcy closed her eyes, pulled Anne close and kissed her on the lips.

Marcy saw fireworks behind her eyelids.

Electricity raced up and down her spine.

A warmth washed over her entire body.

The entire rest of the universe seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them.

In that single moment, Marcy felt… complete. Whole. A sense of perfect, blissful nirvana.

Until she pulled back and opened her eyes to see Anne’s own wide with shock.

Blinking rapidly, Marcy quickly let go and stepped back with a gasp. Anne’s arms fell limply at her sides.

“Anne!” Marcy gasped. “Anne, I…”

The warmth was rapidly being replaced with icy dread.

“I… I-I, um…”

Marcy glanced around. The other couples on the dance floor, dozens of spectators, even the band itself were all looking their way. Dozens of eyes were upon her, watching. Judging.

“I…”

She looked back towards Anne, who slowly raised a hand to brush her fingers against her lips.

“Marcy?” She asked, confused.

Just like that, Marcy’s confidence vanished in a puff of panic.

“ _I’m sorry I’m sorry!_ ” She stammered, shutting her eyes tight. She turned and started walking away, which quickly transitioned to a full run as she weaved through the confused crowd.

Anne blinked several times, her senses returning as she beheld Marcy’s fleeing form. “Wha- Hey hey, Marcy! _Marcy, wait!”_

But it was too late; Marcy had already disappeared down one of the hallways leading deeper into the mansion. Anne took off at a sprint, pushing past the nobles and following her down the corridor. The crowd stood in confused silence as the sound of their rapid footsteps faded into the distance.

“What’s up with them?” one newt asked.

“I don’t know,” another replied. “I mean _I_ thought that was sweet.”

“Must be a ‘hyoo-man’ thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to say here, except that I finally have a total amount of chapters for the story in mind. We're in the home stretch, ladies and gents.


	8. Confessions

“Marcy!”

Anne’s call echoed around her as she dashed through the back halls of Sycamore Mansion. The corridors were dark, with only the occasional glow-bulb mushroom providing any illumination. The sounds of the Midsummer Ball had long since faded behind her, leaving only the sound of Anne’s footsteps and shouts to break the stifling silence.

“Marcy!” Anne called out again. She came to a stop at a four-way intersection, helplessly looking down the identical hallways for any sign of her friend, and finding nothing. “Damn it, how can she move so fast in those heels?”

With no other option, Anne picked a corridor at random and bolted down it. As she ran, the events from several minutes ago kept playing back in her head.

Marcy had kissed her.

Marcy had _kissed her._

It had felt like something out of a dream: the two of them sharing a dance to the mellow tunes of Nat Cole, showing off the moves they had worked so hard to learn. Marcy putting both arms around Anne, with Anne returning the favor. At the moment Anne hadn’t even thought about how they were just supposed to have been dancing as ‘friends.’ All she knew was that she wanted to hold Marcy close as they danced together. It had just felt… right.

And then the next thing Anne knew, Marcy had pulled her close and kissed her.

In that single moment, Anne had felt an explosion of euphoria like nothing she’d experienced before in her life. The feeling of Marcy’s lips against hers had sent sparks of pure joy coursing through her body. The warmth of Marcy's body was like the nurturing rays of the summer sun, her touch gentle like a cool breeze. It was magical.

It had also left Anne completely and utterly dumbstruck. So dumbstruck that all she had done was just stand there when Marcy had gasped and backed away. Anne could still see it so clearly in her mind’s eye: the way Marcy’s confidence had drained out of her, the way her eyes had widened in shock and embarrassment. Anne should have done something to reassure her - given her another kiss, a hug, a smile, _anything_.

Instead she had just stood there rubbing her own lips like an idiot, unable to process what had just happened. And by the time her senses had returned to her, Marcy had already fled the ballroom looking close to tears.

“Gah, how could I be so _stupid?!”_ Anne chastised herself as she ran, smacking her own forehead with an open palm. “How could I screw up this badly when everything was going so good?!”

Shaking her head, Anne sighed and pushed those thoughts aside. There’d be time to beat herself up later.

Right now, Marcy needed her.

“Marcy!” Anne called out again as she came to another intersection, whipping her head around. She was about to take off in another random direction when she spotted something far down the hallway to the left: an ornate glass door to the outside hanging open, curtains gently fluttering in the breeze.

And just beyond that, a slumped-over shaped with a familiar shade of green.

Anne took off down the hallway as fast as her feet could carry her.

The doors opened up to a small stone patio, beyond which was a massive garden full of exotic plants and towering hedges. In the distance stood a high stone wall that separated the grounds of Sycamore Mansion from the rest of its upper-class neighbors. A red crescent moon hung low in the inky night sky, stars twinkling all around it.

And at the edge of the patio sat Marcy with her legs pulled up, arms wrapped around them and her head resting on her knees. Sniffling sounds came from her, and her body shuddered slightly with each breath.

“Marcy?” Anne said, gently as not to startle her.

Marcy looked up sharply. Her eyes were red, tiny black lines running down her cheeks as mascara mixed with tears. The sight about broke Anne’s heart into a thousand pieces.

"Anne!" Marcy said as she quickly stood up, trying desperately to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand. "Anne I am _so_ sorry about what happened back there!"

"Marcy-" Anne tried to say, only to be cut off.

“It was just that with how we were dancing and the music that was playing, I just… I-I just got caught up in the moment, you know?” Marcy forced out a chuckle and smiled a mirthless smile. “Th-that’s all it was, just… just a little slip-up, that’s all. N-nothing to…”

Her smile dropped. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. “I can’t do this anymore. Anne… I like you, okay? I _like_ like you.”

The confession made Anne’s heart swell with joy, but it was tempered by the obvious distress Marcy was still in. “Marcy-”

“I _tried_ , okay? thought if I kept everything buried the feelings would just go away but it’s _not working_ , it’s not working no matter how hard I try! Because we’ve been friends for years and what we have is fine just the way it is, but I-I wanted it to be more than that.”

“Marcy-”

“And now I’ve gone and messed everything up!” The tears were falling freely now, her voice hitching as the words poured out of her. “I just loved the way you were holding me while we danced and you look so handsome in that suit and I just couldn’t help myself and oh God I just _stole_ your first kiss I’m so sorry!” Marcy shut her eyes tight against the sting of her tears. “I’m sorry I’m sorry we can just forget all this ever happened and go back to how things were just please _please_ don’t stop being my friend Anne I’m sor-”

“ _Marcy!”_

Marcy stopped talking and opened her eyes, just in time to see Anne wrap her arms around her and press her lips against hers.

Marcy tensed up for a moment, but quickly closed her eyes and melted into the kiss. She felt one of Anne’s hands press against the small of her back to pull her even closer. Marcy responded in kind by reaching up to cup the back of Anne’s head, lacing her fingers through the chestnut tresses. Her other hand gripped the lapel of Anne’s suit as Marcy kicked a foot up behind her, trusting in Anne to keep her balanced.

That same wonderful warmth from before washed over both girls like a blanket of bliss. Nothing else mattered to Anne and Marcy than what was happening here and now, kissing and holding one another. Everything in the moment felt _right_ , as though it were always meant to be. Neither of them wanted it to end.

Biology, however, demanded otherwise. After several long seconds both girls found themselves in need of oxygen, and separated to breathe. Anne and Marcy gazed into each other’s eyes as they wore matching blushes. Anne reached up to cup Marcy’s chin, gently wiping away her tears with her thumb.

"Anne?" Marcy asked softly. There was hope in her tone, mixed with a tinge of fear.

"Marcy," Anne said with a gentle smile, "you have nothing to apologize for."

“Does… does this mean… ?”

Anne kissed Marcy’s cheek, eliciting a surprised squeak from the latter. “Yeah. I… I like you too, Marcy.”

Marcy gave a quivering smile, and a gasping giggle escaped her. A curious sound of incredulity mixed with delirious joy. “You really mean that?”

Anne smiled and leaned in for another kiss on the lips, one that Marcy was all too happy to return.

“Is that proof enough for you?” Anne asked when she pulled back.

“Eh, I don’t know,” Marcy said coyly. “Part of the scientific process is running experiments over and over to see if you get the same results.”

Feeling a surge of confidence Marcy seized the moment and took the initiative, grabbing Anne by the lapels of her suit and pulling her in for yet another kiss. Not to be outdone Anne wrapped both arms around Marcy, one around her waist with the other around her back. Marcy gave a muffled yelp into Anne’s mouth as she found herself being spun around and bent backwards slightly.

Until Anne’s feet slipped out from under her, sending both girls tumbling to the patio where they landed in a tangled heap.

“Wha- ? What the hell was _that?”_ Marcy asked as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

“Sorry sorry!” Anne said, her face flush with embarrassment. “I was going for a dip!”

“A _what?”_

“You know, a dip!” Anne made some vague motions with her hands. “That thing couples do where one of them spins the other and like just kinda dips them towards the ground, sorta?” She winced again. “Sorry.”  
  
“Jeez, I thought _I_ was supposed to be the clumsy one here.”

The girls shared a laugh as they climbed to their feet. Anne and Marcy held a gaze as a gentle breeze blew through the garden, the foliage rustling softly.

“How long?” Marcy asked. “Have you felt that way about me, I mean?”

Anne shrugged. “I… guess that day we went dress shopping was when it really fell into place. I mean I always cared about you for as long as we’ve been friends, but something at that moment just… clicked, you know? And I realized just how much I wanted us to be more than friends.”

“Yeah, I get it. That’s how it was for me too.” Marcy smiled sweetly at Anne. “I just kept thinking about how you’ve always been there for me to support me, to push me to try and be better, to be there for me when I fail. I realized just how much I love all of that. But I kept my feelings to myself because I thought you wouldn’t like me back and I-”

“Didn’t want to mess up our friendship,” Anne finished. She couldn’t help but laugh. “Dude I _literally_ thought the exact same thing!”

Marcy joined in the laughter, bringing an open palm to her forehead. “Oh frog I can’t believe we fell into that old cliche!”

“Ha ha, yeah…” Anne trailed off as she once again got lost in the sea of Marcy’s eyes, amazed at herself for not noticing just how pretty her eyes were until now.

“So… what happens now?” Marcy asked. She subconsciously tugged on the cuff of her dress sleeve. “Between us, I mean?”

“Well, we’re already best friends. I like you, you like me, we’ve already kissed several times now…” Anne paused, putting on a look of faux outrage. “Oh yeah, and what makes you think that kiss on the dance floor was my _first?”_

“Well was it?”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to just assume that!”

Marcy smiled and rolled her eyes. “Anne please. If you had ever been kissed back home you would’ve told me and Sasha about it in a heartbeat.” Her smile became a mischievous smirk. “Don’t tell me while you’ve been here you kissed a frog at some point, hoping he’d turn into a handsome prince?”

“ _Ew!_ Don’t be gross!” Anne laughed and gave Marcy a playful shoulder slug.

“Oh sorry, would you have preferred I said ‘beautiful princess’ instead?”

“That is _not_ what I meant and you know it! Besides,” Anne smiled and wrapped an arm around Marcy’s waist to pull her close. “I already have a beautiful princess right here.”

Marcy blushed bright red at the compliment, smiling a dopey, lovestruck smile. Anne giggled and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“So it seems pretty clear to me what our next step is,” she said. “Marcy, will you go out with me?”

Marcy returned the gesture, kissing Anne on the cheek. “I’d love to, Anne.”

Anne smiled a glowing smile. “Then it’s official! Marcy Wu and Anne Boonchuy, girlfriends. Heh, I like the sound of that.”

“My girlfriend Anne,” Marcy said, testing the words herself. Her grin was radiant. “I like the sound of that too.”

Anne looked back down the hallway they had come from. “So… did you want to head back to the party? If that’s okay?”

Marcy leaned into Anne’s embrace. “I’d love to.”

With that the newly-minted couple went back inside, gently shutting the glass door behind them. The girls smiled as they walked arm-in-arm, feeling lighter than air. Not only did it feel like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders after getting their feelings out in the open, but those feelings had been returned and validated. They had arrived at the Midsummer Ball as friends, and they were leaving as girlfriends.

Nothing could ruin this night.

* * *

_“Mmmph! Hmmp, mmm mmmph!_ ”

Lord Sycamore thrashed weakly against the ropes he was bound by, desperately trying to speak through the cloth tied around his mouth. His two assailants - dressed in long black cloaks and full-face black masks that hid their features - paid him no mind, slamming shut the trunk of the hermit crab carriage and throwing open the door to the cabin.

“We’ve got the target,” one of them whispered in a guttural voice as he climbed in while the other ran ahead of him. “Let’s go go go!”

The carriage took off, driving out of the garden and into the cobblestone alleyway that ran between the grounds of Sycamore Mansion and its neighbors. As it left the grounds the other assailant pulled the wrought-iron gate in the wall shut, then turned and leapt into the still-moving carriage as it sped off into the night.

Back in the garden, a butler groaned as he lay slumped unconscious against a sycamore tree, blood running down from his snout and one eye swollen shut. A piece of paper was pinned to his torn suit, covered in a rough scrawl.

_“Follow these instructions if you want to see your precious Lord Sycamore alive…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needless to say, this whole bit with the criminal conspiracy wound up VERY different than how I envisioned it when I first started this story. But I'll go into more detail on that in my final author's note/story retrospective.


	9. Dawn of a New Day

Marcy Wu awoke to the feeling of warm sunlight on her face.

The teenager sat up and stretched with a loud yawn. She was in her bedroom at the Royal Castle, morning sunlight streaming through the window. Marcy looked down and saw that she was still wearing her dress from the Midsummer Ball, and memories of last night cut through the haze of her morning grogginess.

After she and Anne had confessed their feelings to each other and officially become a couple, they had returned to the mansion’s grand ballroom for the rest of the Midsummer Ball. With her new girlfriend - Marcy blushed and smiled at the thought - at her side Marcy had been able to laugh and socialize with the other guests with no trouble at all. She had lost track of how many dances she and Anne had shared, swaying to the dulcet tones of Gnat ‘King' Cole and his band.

Just a week ago Marcy would have balked at the thought of attending a fancy Newtopian soiree, and would have found the idea of her and Anne as a couple to be unbelievable. It still sort of boggled her mind just how much things had changed in such a short time.

It was close to midnight when the first guests retired for the evening, which gradually triggered an exodus as the ball started to wind down. Ready to call it a night, the girls decided to take their leave as well. Marcy had wanted to personally thank Lord Sycamore again for the invitation, but couldn’t find him - apparently no one had seen him in hours. Everyone just assumed he had retired early, an assumption that Marcy found herself agreeing with due to Sycamore’s advanced age. She settled for thanking one of the butlers, who assured her he’d pass along the message.

The carriage ride back to the Hemisphere had been largely uneventful, with both girls exhausted from their long day. They had spent the ride cuddling together in the back seat, basking in another's aura. Having Anne's arms wrapped around her while Marcy curled up against her, Marcy felt warm and safe and protected from all of life's woes.

She had almost cried when they arrived at the hotel and Anne had to take her leave. But she had promised to stop by the castle with the Plantars first thing in the morning where they would share the news of their relationship with everyone, so at least Marcy had that to look forward to. With a final goodnight kiss Anne had bid her girlfriend farewell, leaving Marcy to send the carriage back to the Royal Castle. By the time she had made her way through the dark and winding corridors to her bedroom, Marcy had been so tired that she flopped onto the bed and was out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

But now it was morning, and morning meant seeing Anne again.

That thought brought a surge of energy to Marcy, who leaped out of bed with a smile. Several minutes later she sauntered out of her room, dressed in her normal clothes and Ranger cloak, face washed clean of last night's make-up and the necklace from Anne around her neck. She walked through the halls towards the dining hall, her and Anne's agreed-upon meeting spot, with a spring in her step and a sunny smile on her face.

"Good morning, Henrietta!" Marcy said brightly as she passed by the maid, who was hard at work dusting the portraits that hung on the walls.

"And good morning to you, Lady Marcy," Henrietta replied with a smile. "I take it the Midsummer Ball went well?"

“It went fantastic! Hit me up during your break later and I’ll give you all the details.”

Henrietta looked uncertain at the sudden invitation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to trouble you…”

“It’s no trouble at all! I’ll even treat you to lunch. I know a place over in District Two that makes the best beetle burgers in the city.”

“Well…” she slowly smiled again, and nodded, “if you insist. Thank you, Lady Marcy.”

Marcy smiled and clicked her tongue at Henrietta as she rounded a corner and continued on her way to the dining hall. She started to whistle one of the tunes she and Anne had danced to last night, quickening her pace.

“Hey hey, Jilly-bean!” Marcy said when she turned a corner into an outer corridor that overlooked the castle courtyard. The blue newt looked up from the window she was washing and smiled.

“Ah, good morning Lady Marcy!” said Jillian. “How was the Midsummer Ball?”

“It was wonderful! Give my thanks to your cousin again, her dress was a big hit. And tell her to expect lots of new customers, ‘cause I gave her name to plenty of people.”

Jillian’s eyes and smile both widened. “Oh, that’s incredible! Fiona will be so happy to hear that. Thank you, Lady Marcy.”

“And thank _you_ for sending me to her in the first place.”

With that Marcy went back to walking. Her walk soon became a jog, then a run as she turned a final corner and spotted the ornate oak doors of the dining hall.

On most mornings the spacious chamber would be packed with members of the Newtopian Parliament as they prepared for their day, with dozens of servants working to keep hot breakfast and coffee flowing. But with no parliament sessions scheduled for today, the dining hall was mostly empty. King Andrias, Lady Olivia, the Plantars and Anne were the only occupants, sitting at the far end of the oaken dining table with a selection of breakfast foods resting on platters placed before them. Sprig was sitting up in his chair, talking and wildly waving his arms while Andrias listened intently.

"... and so we had no choice but to eat our way out of the tomato plant before we were digested by its stomach acid," Marcy heard Sprig say as she approached. He paused, a contemplative look coming to his face. “Boy now that I think about it, I’ve survived getting eaten alive like a _lot.”_

Andrias laughed heartily, his booming guffaws echoing through the room. "My my, it sounds like you Plantars lead exciting lives," he said. 

Sprig grinned again. "And that was just _one_ adventure! There was this other time when me and Anne got cursed by this-"

"Hey-yo, everyone!" Marc said, getting everyone's attention. A chorus of “good mornings” greeted her as she took the seat next to Anne, who was digging into a plate of pillbug pancakes. "Morning, Anna-Banana!"

Anne swallowed and smiled at her girlfriend. "Morning, Marbles!"

Olivia set her coffee aside and leaned forward with her fingers steepled, unable to keep the inquisitive smile off her face. “So… how was the ball?”

“Anne was telling us you had some big news?” Hop Pop added. “What’s that about?”

“Yeah, don’t keep us in suspense!” Polly said, bouncing in her chair. She cast an annoyed look in Anne’s direction. “ _Someone_ wouldn’t tell us a thing about last night until you showed up.”

Anne set her fork down and took a deep breath. “Right,” she said, and everyone’s eyes fixed on her. “So the thing is, me and Marcy-”

“Actually Anne,” Marcy interrupted, “would you mind if _I_ gave them the news?”

Anne blinked, but smiled. “Oh. Yeah, go ahead.”

“Come on, spit it out already!” Polly demanded.

“Yeah, what’s this news of yours?” Sprig asked.

“This,” Marcy said.

She wrapped one arm around a surprised Anne to pull her close and kiss her.

Polly and Sprig gasped, their eyes a-twinkle.

Hop Pop choked on his coffee.

Andrias' eyebrows shot up.

Olivia merely nodded.

Both girls were blushing when Marcy pulled back. She giggled, pleased with herself for her boldness.

"Well, that's _one_ way to break the news," Anne said with a chuckle.

"So was that just a 'friendship' kiss?" Olivia asked, smirking. "Between two ‘good friends'?"

"Hardy har, very funny," Marcy said. "But for real though, Anne and I are together now. Romantically, I mean."

"We're totally girlfriends," Anne said. She gave a proud smile, putting an arm across Marcy’s shoulders.

“Congratulations, girls!” Andrias said with a wide smile. “That’s fantastic news.”

“It sure is,” said Hop Pop, also beaming. “I’m happy for you Anne, you and Marcy both.”

“So… how did all of this go down?” Sprig asked eagerly.

“Yeah we were promised details!” Polly added. Anne chuckled.

“Alright alright, just calm down kiddo. So we got dropped off at the Sycamore Mansion, right? And it was this big, fancy mansion with a huge garden built into the walls. Gah, I wish I had taken some pictures!”

“Anyways,” Marcy said, “the party itself was held in this grand ballroom, packed full of richest and fanciest newts you’ve ever seen…”

Marcy and Anne launched into a detailed account of the Midsummer Ball: the colorful characters they had interacted with, the way Marcy had been confident and charismatic, and the dance the two of them had shared which led to their first kiss.

“Ha! That means me and Olivia win!” Polly blurted out with a grin, interrupting the story. Her smile dropped in an instant and her eyes went wide. “Uh I mean… that’s so sweet?”

“... You win?” Marcy asked, arching an eyebrow. “What do you win?”

“Uh nothing!” Andrias said quickly, eyes darting around as he steadfastly avoided Marcy’s gaze.

Anne looked to the others: Spring was whistling innocently, Hop Pop was stiff and sweating, and Olivia suddenly found her empty coffee cup very interesting. She gaped at them as the pieces clicked into place.

“Wait, did you guys actually _bet_ on which one of us would make a move first?!” Anne asked, incredulous.

“No!” Sprig said, waving his arms. “No no, not at all, of course we wouldn’t…” He trailed off as Anne and Marcy glared at him. “It was all Polly’s idea!”

“Sprig you traitor!” Polly snapped.

“I can’t believe you guys would just bet on the love lives of two teenagers like that,” Marcy said, throwing her arms up.

“In our defense,” Olivia cut in, her voice calm and even, “you two were the ones in steadfast denial of your own feelings. All we did was make a few…” She paused, glancing away, “ _hypothetical_ wagers on what would happen at the dance. Other than that, we didn’t push either of you into a confession, just as you asked of us.”

“That is…” Anne began to say sharply, only for her anger to ebb as she considered Olivia’s words, “... actually true.”

“Yeah, I guess we _were_ being kinda stubborn about being in denial,” Marcy admitted. 

“Hey, the important thing is that you two admitted how you felt about each other,” Hop Pop said brightly. “At least, I’m guessing that’s what happened next?”

Marcy chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head. “Sort of. First I kinda got super embarrassed and ran out of the room.”

“But I caught up with her,” Anne said. “We got to talking, one thing led to another and, well…” She leaned over to kiss Marcy’s cheek, who blushed and giggled sweetly. “Yeah.”

“Well I’m glad you two are happy together,” Sprig said, with the others at the table voicing their agreements. Anne and Marcy gave them smiles full of gratitude.

“Thanks everyone,” Marcy said. “And thank you for everything you’ve helped us with this week.”

“Well _most_ of us did,” Andrias said. “I feel like I was barely involved in this whole plot.”

“That’s not true, Your Majesty,” Anne said. She paused, furrowing her brow. “I mean you, uh… You got us that carriage to and from the ball.”

Andrias chuckled. “Anne it’s okay. I may not have done much to help you and Marcy with the dance, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have work of my own going on.” He leaned down. “While you two were gone last night, I hit the royal library again to see what I could dig up on the mystery of the music box.”

“Didn’t we go through practically the whole library already?” Marcy asked.

“Yes, but I wanted to take another look to see if we missed anything. And I’m glad I did!” He leaned forward, smiling broadly. “In my search I found the entrance to a secret wing of the library, one that looks to have been untouched for hundreds of years. Maybe even longer.”

Marcy’s eyes lit up. “No way!”

“Yes way! And in it I found some books that might finally hold the answers we seek. All we have to do is translate the ancient glyphs.”

Marcy couldn’t believe her luck. She had successfully attended a fancy Newtopian ball, her best friend was now her girlfriend, _and_ they might have a clue on how to get home?

This morning couldn’t get any better.

Marcy opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the sound of the dining hall doors slamming open. Everyone at the table turned to see a frazzled frog butler quickly walking towards them. Next to him was a tall, broad-shouldered, crimson-skinned newt with short-cropped black hair. He wore leather armor, a dark blue cloak hanging loosely off his shoulders.

“Chief Maximus?” Marcy muttered, eyes going wide.

“Friend of yours?” Anne asked.

“Eh, more of a coworker. He’s the Chief Enforcer of the Newtopian Knight Guard, head of all Enforcement for the city.”

“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty,” said the butler. “But Lord Maximus says he has urgent business with Lady Marcy.”

Anne and Marcy exchanged confused glances as Maximus bowed before Andrias.

“A thousand pardons for the intrusion, King Andrias,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. He stood up and turned his attention to the two human girls, nodding respectfully to Marcy. “Chief Wu.”

“Chief Maximus,” Marcy said, standing up from her chair and nodding back. “What seems to be the problem?”

“You attended the Midsummer Ball last night, correct? You and one… Anne Boonchuy?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Anne said. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Maximus wore a grim expression. “It’s Lord Sycamore. He’s been kidnapped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've finally reached the end of this story. To think it was barely two months ago when I started this. Now here we are over thirty-thousand words later.
> 
> First off, let me just say thank you to all of my readers. Everyone who reviewed, left kudos, bookmarked this story, it was all of you that motivated me to keep writing. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> Now onto the elephant in the room: the "criminal conspiracy" subplot and the subsequent cliffhanger it resulted it. To be perfectly honest, I REALLY wish I had never even included that. When I first came up with this story, I thought I wouldn't be able to write a straight-up romance, so I thought I added that subplot with a few ideas of where it might go: a criminal group attacking the dance, Anne and Marcy thwarting Lord Sycamore's abduction, them getting captured as well and needing to escape, or something like that.
> 
> But lo and behold, I found that I wasn't half bad at romance and rather enjoyed it. So much so that by the fourth chapter I was like "Oh yeah, I had this other subplot in mind. Shit." And by then it felt like trying include it would subtract from the real meat of the story, which of course was the Anne/Marcy romance. I'm very much still learning the craft of writing and storytelling, so that blunder is all on me. Anyways rather than try and shoehorn it in here, I decided to just make that whole thing its own separate story, a sequel to this one.
> 
> That being said, that story won't arrive for sometime, probably not until late this year or early next year. Unlike this one which was mostly written by the seat of my pants, I'd like to take the time to properly plan this next story out. Not only that, but now that I've gotten into the habit of writing regularly, I'd like to focus most of my efforts on writing my own original fiction. I will still write fanfiction, don't worry. I'll just mostly stick to one-shots and drabbles for now, with bigger projects like the sequel to this story being farther down the road.
> 
> Again, thank you to all of my readers for making "Dance With Me" a bigger hit than I ever could have imagined. I hope you'll tune in for more fanfiction from me. And if anyone's interested in my original fiction I have a Reddit account for short horror stories, as well as dumb memes and other stupid stuff. Also on Tumblr, but I still need to get around to actually posting my short stories there.
> 
> Thank you all, and happy reading.


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